No Good Doctor Goes Unpunished
by MobMotherScitah
Summary: Being one of a handful of the only decent people in Rapture is tiring and trying at best. But when Fontaine and Ryan put you in hot waters, what else can you do but try your hardest... And tread water. Warning: OC! Please read Author's Note inside!
1. Chapter 1

_A brief word, if you will, Reader, before diving in! While writing, I was unable to fact check as I went, but, once I finished, I checked and corrected much! Though, admittedly, there was little I could do to salvage the wonky timeline I write about in this tale - as you will no doubt read very shortly! So, I suppose, you will need to take solace in the idea that this is an AU. Or, for those not privy; Alternate Universe. Despite the timeline, I had meant it to be such! In my telling, Atlas was a real person with a real wife and son. Not just a figment of Fontaine's imagination. Do keep that in mind, please. And if this tale seems preachy, I apologize. This is the character. She has notions of how she thinks Society should be and you get to peak at all of that. If you're not in for a touch of politics - which confounds me entirely! You're the one looking up Bioshock stories! - then this is not a tale for you. _

_If you're a fond reader of my various other works, you will find this tale to be a touch unlike the others. Call it an expansion of my, hm, repertoire... If you will? As you mosey along, - and have read some of my other works - you will find just what I happen to be speaking about. If not... I'll see if I can't put a little end note. But only at the end of the story. Those who did not read this little message may find that confusing, but that is their problem, not mine. Or yours!_

_Now that I've briefed you on that which might utterly confuse you, I implore you enjoy. Should you find any grammatical or spelling errors, please notify me of the chapter and sentence. I have found Beta readers unreliable. So, I must rely upon you, dear Reader. Do enjoy!_

_~Scitah_

_P.S. Do remember to exhale when coming up for air._

* * *

Brown eyes observed the workings of Steinman. "Doctor Steinman…" she called softly, reaching out to set a hand on his trembling hands. The man let his brows mesh in confusion and shock. He looked up at her, his nurse. She had the skill to be a Doctor herself, but she was a woman… He supposed that was why she came to Rapture. "Your hands are quivering."

Heaving a sigh, Steinman nodded and stepped back from the unconscious body of one of his patients. A young woman who wished to be perfect… Looking. "You can handle this, can't you, Moema?" When she nodded, he set the scalpel down and left the room.

Moema waited until she was sure he was in his office before taking over and completing the surgery rather efficiently. The two other nurses eyed Moema's work, one commenting to the other "Good work for a feather head." The other nurse chuckled. Their conversation was mostly ignored by Moema as she scrubbed her hands clean.

She came to Rapture to escape the nonsense of the above world full of its prejudices and viciousness… Yes, her mother was a Tupi Native of Brazil who had come to America with her brother and was then gang raped. Moema had no clue as to who her father was and quite frankly, did not give a damn. White Men were unreliable wrecks… Monsters more like! Moema couldn't recount how many times she'd been propositioned, called a slave, or some other ingenious slur, touched… How many times she'd almost been raped herself! White people were generally terrible people to Moema and her full blooded mother.

While the other two nurses continued talking, not about Moema thankfully, Moema cleaned up, wanting to keep up to standard. Outside of Rapture, she had been a local physician to the 'un-white'. She was usually paid with food or labor or what-have-you… She was protected by thugs and gang members of colored groups because she had tended to their mothers or sisters or lovers… They stole medical books for her to study so she could do more for the people. It made her quite the Go-to. She enjoyed being part of the community…

But here… In Rapture… She was a colored spot in a sea, literally, of white folks… She wondered if she should have stayed topside? They would have arrested her mother if they'd stayed, though… She'd been accused of stealing food from a farm, which was completely preposterous. The white cops just wanted leverage against the colored! Or at least, that was how Moema saw it.

Cleo and Sarah, the other two Nurses were called away as Moema waited for the patient to awaken. The three had moved the young woman to a private recovery room. Beatrice Watts. Moema was going over some medical notes she'd had taken with her before she left the surface when Beatrice inhaled deeply. Glancing over towards Beatrice, Moema marked her spot with a light pencil marking. "Good evening Miss Watts. How are you feeling?"

Beatrice gave a concerned look to Moema through the head wrappings. "Dizzy…"That earned her a nod from Moema. "Where is Doctor Steinman?"

Moema didn't even hesitate; "He was called for a consultation and left you in my care for the time being so that you would have someone to speak to when you awoke." She stood, moving her long black braid behind her shoulder so that when she leaned over to adjust an IV it didn't touch Beatrice. "Let me know if that helps."

Beatrice offered a very faint twitch of a smile, since all the work done was above her mouth. "What about the other nurses who work here?" It was then that Steinman walked in. "Doctor Steinman."

"Good evening, Miss." He couldn't recall the young woman's name, so he carried on. "Their bedside mannerisms are not as superior to Nurse Moema's here. I assure you, I would not leave a patient in just anyone's hands!"

He flattered Moema because he knew that if he stepped on her toes, she would not hesitate to explain to everyone who would listen about his lackluster performances when he was using ADAM. He couldn't have that information get out right now. Not at the beginning of the Modification Craze.

"Oh." Smiled the young woman. She looked towards Moema, "I apologize for my behavior."

Moema forced a rather convincing smile before collecting her things, and said a perfectly rehearsed "You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Watt." She nodded her head before looking to Steinman, "A brief word, Doctor?"

He grinned rather charismatically, "Of course!" he followed her to the door.

"Her name is Beatrice Watt. She had her eyes adjusted, nose curved, and forehead smoothed." She said quietly to the taller man who nodded, taking in this information.

"Ah, okay. Thank you." He cleared his throat quietly, "Uh, there is this gathering that Andrew Ryan is hosting for the Well-to-Dos… I would appreciate if you would escort me there… It would be good to have another person to do surgeries legitimately so that they do not all end up in my hands."

A flutter grew in Moema that she inhaled to quell so that she could think clearer. "That would be nearly pointless, Doctor Steinman. Have you looked at me recently?" she said, voice a very controlled hiss.

"This is Rapture, Moema… The people tend to be more open minded here." He offered.

Heaving a sigh, Moema nodded. "Fine. I will accompany you to this gathering." She looked towards Beatrice and smiled, "Have a pleasant evening, Miss Watt. I will check on you when I get in tomorrow morning."

Beatrice offered an uncertain smile and nodded. "Oh, okay."

Looking back to Steinman, Moema tilted her head in a sort of greeting, "Good evening Doctor."

"Same to you, Moema." He then opened the door for Moema and shut it behind her.

Moema inhaled as deep as she could before heading to the locker-room to change. Once done, she punched out and left the Medical Pavilion. She made her way to the Farmer's Market where her mother, Maiara, worked as a Sales Clerk. As Moema approached, she noticed a man standing too close to her mother, a firm grip on her arm, speaking lowly to her. The look on Maiara's face was a mix of defiance and fear.

"Mother." Moema called, drawing both her mother's attention as well as the man's. Maiara raised her hand for Moema to stay back, so she did so. Moema shook her head before inspecting some of the Rapture Grown Produce. White smelling a peach, Moema felt a sudden chill, as if someone was stood behind her, touching her hair. Turning, Moema found no one there. Looking to her left, towards her mother, she found a scowl on the woman's face at something beyond Moema. So, she followed her gaze to see that man just leaving.

As Moema set the peach back and moved towards her mother, she heard her mother cursing. "Mother, who was that?"

"No one you should know…" answered her tired mother, whom Moema looked almost a spitting image of. The brow color of her eyes, the warm dark tone of her skin, the darkness of her wavy hair… Though, Maiara's hair was kept relatively short, especially compared to the seemingly miles of hair Moema had.

"Was he propositioning you?" pressed Moema.

The appalled look on Maiara's face showed clear disgust, "By God, no!"

"Threatening?" continued Moema. A sigh came from Maiara as she turned to return to the counter, "What would you expect from me, Mother? If you do not tell me, I will continue to guess."

"By God, Moema!" blurted Maiara as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She turned and latched onto her taller daughter's upper arms, "My dearest daughter-"

"Only daughter." Corrected Moema, earning a serious look of reprimand from the older woman.

"-do not get involved with this. Please? You are able to work in the Medical Pavilion. You get paid well. Do not jeopardize your chances by getting involved with this issue." There was a moment of quiet between the two as understanding crossed Moema's face. Maiara released her daughter so that she could turn towards the confounded mother of two active sons and rang her up.

"I still don't know why you won't move in with me, Mother…" Moema stated in Portuguese.

"I do well on my own." Came the stark response from Maiara, also in Portuguese.

"Mother, I've seen the area you live in. Don't you want something better?" Moema tried, leaning against the counter beside her mother, who huffed.

"Of course, my little star…" she sighed and shook her head, "But it is time you take care of you and not me. I will survive… You will thrive."

"But Mother-" Moema was silenced when Maiara set a calloused hand to her mouth.

"No more, Moema. We will never speak of this again. You can provide yourself a life I never could give you. Be proud. You made it. You took a vague dream and turned it into truth. And I am so proud of you." The mother and daughter go quiet again before Maiara turns back to man the register.

"… Do you still want to have dinner tonight?" Moema asks softly.

Maiara doesn't answer as she thinks a long moment, weighing options and what would be best for her daughter. "No, my little star… No more dinners…"

"Mother?"

A sigh escapes Maiara as she nods. "It is time you let your mother go." The shocked silence from Moema causes a small bitter chuckle to escape Maiara. "Something is happening and it is very possible that I will end up involved – whether I want to be or not! I do not want to take you from the skies…" she turns and looks seriously towards Moema. "Don't come to see me anymore, Moema."

The younger woman tries desperately to hold in tears as she blinks and nods. "Yes Mother."

"Maiara." Corrects the older woman.

Moema's chin quivers as she nods again, "Yes Maiara." She turns and begins out but stops to look up at the wooden ceiling of the Market Stall. "The Doctor wishes to take me to some party with Ryan…"

Maiara inhales shakily, nodding, "I would be proud were I your mother, Moema."

Moema's face crumbles before she quickly darts off, leaving her mother to continue on, stone-faced.


	2. Chapter 2

Steinman guided Moema into the party. She was in a slim buttery yellow gown that pooled around her feet with a muted navy blue shrug. Her hair was gathered loosely over her right shoulder and blue beads accented the ensemble with gold trimmings. She looked like she belonged if you ignored her skin-tone and Brazilian features. She recognized a few people, but the one that stood out the most was the one and only Andrew Ryan. If Moema were completely honest with herself, she was thrilled to be here.

Who wouldn't be? "These things can be so stressful, so…" trailed off Steinman.

Moema glanced up at him and quirked her brows at him, "Who would have thought, the surgeon is hesitant with Upper-Class crowds."

"They ask too many questions and want favors for favors…" he scoffed, continuing to guide her towards Andrew Ryan. "I don't operate like that."

"Sometimes it can be beneficial, Doctor Steinman." She responded.

"Ah, Steinman!" greeted Ryan, offering a convincing smile. "You have brought a guest!"

"Evening Ryan. This is the young woman I was speaking to you about…" Steinman mirrored the smile.

"Oh?" Andrew Ryan looked towards Moema. "You never said she was Ethnic." Chuckled the man.

"What does Race have to do with successful Surgeries and Medical Care, Mr. Ryan?" asked Moema. "The illness' and emergencies do not care about who is available to tend to a Patient… And those that undergo surgeries are unconscious for said surgeries."

"Did you go to Medical School?" pressed Ryan.

"What makes you think an Institution would accept a person who was not white, much less a woman, Mr. Ryan?" she scoffed. "I did not need an expensive and uncaring institution to teach me what I know. I am perfectly capable of reading." Despite her being utterly serious, the group of well-known men laughed.

"I like you…" Ryan chuckles, approached to shake her hand. "I think, perhaps, it is time the Supervision of your Surgeries ceases and you become a legitimate Doctor. What field would you prefer?"

She offers a small scoff-like laugh, "Mr. Ryan, there are a variety of different Doctors, some not even Medical… And, although I am fair at just about every assorted type of Medical Practices, I would prefer to remain in Cosmetic Surgery. That field is only dominated by Doctor Steinman and the office has become swamped with Clients. It seems most Logical to stay in that particular field."

"I could definitely use the help." Nodded Steinman. "Moema Suero would make a terrific Cosmetic Surgeon."

Ryan pulled a face as if saying "Alright" and nodded, "What do you say to that, Miss Suero?"

For a moment, she blinks up at him, "Doctor."

"Hm?"

"It's Doctor Suero." She reiterated, smirking.

Ryan laughed, causing the other men to laugh as well, "So it is! Forgive me."

Moema moved around the various groups, introducing herself as she went. She had thoroughly surprised the Upper Class of Rapture with niceties. Now that the party was well off into the night, she decided it was time to call it a night and left. As she sat in the Bathysphere, having told the worker where she wished to go, someone else pressed in just before the door was about to shut.

"Leaving the party so soon, sweet heart?" came an accentuated accent.

Looking up, Moema found herself face-to-face with the man who had been talking to her moth- to Maiara. "I have work tomorrow, so if you'll forgive me…"

He scoffed, sitting right next to her. When she scooted away, he latched onto her arm and said lowly to her, "Don't do that, Doll…"

She sighed, "If you persist, I will neuter you Mr. Fontaine."

"Oh!" he laughed, "So you know me!"

"Only fools don't know you." Came her reply.

"So, you'll neuter me, eh?" he chuckled, releasing her arm and leaning against the back of the chair.

"I've neuter countless pets before coming to Rapture… Shouldn't be hard to remember." She stated, looking straight ahead.

"…" all he did was study her features and give a vague smirk. "This got somethin' t'do with your mother?"

"Don't have one." She states, glancing towards him with a warning look. This only instigates laughter from him. "Was there a joke?"

"Nah, Doll… I coulda swore you called little miss Maiara 'Mother' just a few days ago." He went to brush some hair aside, but the clench of her jaw made him smirk and retract. "Musta been my mistake, Doll."

"Must have." She nods once and glances to one of the various posters.

"So, I hear that there is a new Doc in Rapture!" he blurts, sitting straight and readjusting his jacket. "That wouldn't happen to be you, now would it, Doll?"

"My name is not Doll, Mr. Fontaine."

"Oh, excuse me." He retorts.

"You can call me Doctor Suero." She finishes, "I'm a new Cosmetic Surgeon."

"Ah, work gettin' too hard for ol' Steinman?" he jokes, running a hand over his hairless head.

"Too abundant." She corrects semi-falsely.

"If you say so, Doc."

She sighs and shuts her eyes a moment. At least Doc was better than Doll!

"Maiara tell you anything?" Frank states after a brief silence.

"…" Moema glanced towards Fontaine, "No. Was there something I needed knowing, Mr. Fontaine, that she did not tell me?"

There is this semi-smug look on his face as she gives him a cold and calculative look. They stay like that a moment before he scoffs and shakes his head. "No, Doc. Be glad that she didn't tell you nuthin'."

"Surely you're not attempting a subtly vague threat, Mr. Fontaine..?" Moema asks, readjusting to sit straighter. Christ! When would this thing get to where she needed it?! "Subtle and Vague are unjustifiable from you, it would seem."

He scoffs, "You know, you got a smart mouth."

"You sound like a Gangster I ran into once…"

"Oh yeah?" challenged the man. The other man, the worker, remained silent and stared anywhere but the two. It wasn't his business. "How'd that go? You smart mouth him, too?"

"He was threatening one of my patients. He pulled a gun on me and I severed the tendons in his wrist, making his entire hand completely useless." She looked towards Fontaine slowly, "I then told him that if I ever saw him in my part of town again, I would feed him to the wild dogs in tiny pieces."

Fontaine quirks a brow and readjusts once more. "He ever come back?"

"Yes."

"You do like you said?"

She tries very hard to quell the smirk, but fails and glances away a moment before returning her gaze to him, "What sort of person would I be if I were unable to keep my word?" It was semi-true. She'd cut the Don up in self-defense when a dog came, sniffed the blood and, having devoured various rodents, decided to attack the Don. Tore him apart, allowing Moema to escape. She'd never been more afraid in her life. But she didn't have to tell all of the truth to Fontaine, now did she?

"Hoo, hoo…" chuckles Fontaine, "You are one serious Doc."

"I care about the welfare of my patients, Mr. Fontaine." She crosses one leg over the other, "I refuse to let some white Gangster threaten those in my care."

"So I see." He nods. The Bathysphere stops and Fontaine stands, "This is my stop, Doc." He steps out but looks back at her, "We'll be in touch."


	3. Chapter 3

Moema had tended to five separate cases in the past two weeks and it would seem that only Ryan's circles wives and girlfriends and mistresses were her clientele. She didn't mind. Work was work and afforded her a very comfortable life. She was able to hire someone to purchase her groceries for her so that she could avoid going to the Market.

She was also able to hire more nurses and did blind interviews where basically she had resumes sent in with first initials and last names, no gender or race. Only those things. With that, she hire Jamison Kenith and Yolandi Smith. Jamison was a riveter and Yolandi… She was of ill repute. But now both were Nurses under Moema.

Having just released another patient after a solid Recovery, Moema was finishing up some paperwork when a knock echoed in the quiet office. "Enter at will." She states, continuing to write.

She didn't even look up when the door opened. "Heya Doc." That caused her to look up and sigh at the sight of Frank Fontaine shutting the door behind him.

"Mr. Fontaine. What a surprise." Sighs out Moema, who caps her pen and sets her paperwork in a folder. "To what do I owe this impromptu visit?" She didn't even bother to ask how he got in. Yolandi was working the front at the moment and was very susceptible to strong willed men.

"So you hired Landi, huh?" he rubs at his chin and sits in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, "Interesting choice. Yours or Steinman's?"

"I hired her." Nods Moema.

"Hm. I wouldn'ta pegged you fer hirin' whores'n'th'like…"

Moema clenches her jaw, "Perhaps that is what she was before I knew her, but now that she is under my employ, she is an effective member of my team. Is there a reason you are even here, Fontaine?" she glanced at her clock and then her open schedule, "I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

"I wanted to discuss some business with you…" he chuckles a moment, "Perhaps I shoulda scheduled..?"

"Perhaps you should have." Nods the woman.

"Tell you what, Doc! You meet up with me for dinner and we'll talk."

"Why would I go anywhere with you, Mr. Fontaine?"

"Well, from our last talk, I figured you would prefer to help people than waste all your time on the mistress' of the rich!" he stood, "Tell yuh what, Doc. I like yuh and I wanna help yuh… So-" he reached into an inner pocket and set a card down showing Kashmir Restaurant. "meet me here, tonight. Say around 8 or so…" he then winked at Moema and went towards the door, "Wear somethin' snappy."

That earned him a set of quirked brows. And with that, he left, leaving Moema to sigh and stretch her fingers to as far as they would go on their own. She supposed she would go. It was curious, his attraction to bothering her… Maybe she could figure out what the hell he wanted? Maybe. Yeah, she'd hear him out and go from there.

Moema stepped into Kashmir in a stark red dress that reached just below her knees and was off-the-shoulder with a black sheer bit that wrapped all the way around. A thick black belt cinched to her waist nicely, and black low-heeled shoes shined nicely in the dim lighting. Her hair was done up- well, most of it was done up. There was just so much hair! Perhaps it was time to get it cut?

God, what was she doing here?

"Why hello Doc." Came the greeting from Frank Fontaine as his hand hovered over her lower back. "Don't you look snappy?"

She ended up giving him this dead-panned look that only furthered his amusement. "Shall we?"

"Oh, we shall." He motioned her to a table in a darker corner. Moema couldn't help but roll her eyes. There was another man sitting there, a kinder looking man. Though, his clothing seemed rugged. A working man. Moema preferred working men to men in suits. They held values she found enduring. "Doctor Moema Suero, meet Atlas."

"Just Atlas?" asks Moema, giving Fontaine a look of suspicion as he motioned she scoot in. "I refuse to be entrapped by you, Fontaine-"

"Ere." States Atlas, scooting to the center of the booth. "And ye, jus Atlas."

Moema smiled thankfully at Atlas and sat where he had, leaving Fontaine to shake his head and unbutton his jacket to sit. "I see." Nodded Moema. "Where do you work, atlas?"

"Fisheries…" he answered shortly, glancing around.

Moema looked towards Fontaine and frowned, "Just what are you playing at, Fontaine. I am frankly tired of your silly games."

Frank lifts both hands in a placating gesture, "Calm down, Doc. Let the man tell you his story, would yuh?"

Huffing, Moema turned her attention back to the charismatic looking Atlas, and motioned he carry on.

"I got friends working everywhere… And the ways they're treated an' paid is awful." He stated. His lacking grandeur and tale left Moema to bob her head. "We ain't got no one t'speak fer us."

"And you want me to speak for you?" Moema asked.

"Nah. We just want the proper medical care, is all… It'd be a start. Yanno?" she nods at Atlas' words.

Heaving a small sigh, Moema glances around, "Why was this such a lead-around, Fontaine? You could have brought him to my office…"

"Didn't wan'ta risk it." He states.

"Did you think I was kidding in the Bathysphere, Fontaine? Do I look like one who cares about some silly Status Quo?" she had to stop before her voice rose. Clearing her throat, she gave a solid look to the bald man, "You don't need to yank my chain, Mr. Fontaine. Now then, if you gentlemen will excuse me-" she begins to get up but Frank reaches out and latches onto her wrist.

"I said there'd be dinner… Didn't I?" he chuckles before making a small fuss over letting her go.

"Well, I can't stay… Moira'll be in a right fit if'n I don't return soon." Atlas states, standing.

"Moira?" Moema asks, curious and a twinge jealous. Sure, she just met the man, but there was something about him… About that boyish grin he gave when she asked about Moira.

"Me wife." He hefted out a wallet and flashed Moema a picture, showing a rather lovely looking pale skinned woman with dark hair and freckles. "Tha's m'son. Patrick."

She allowed herself a moment to feel that little crush of her soul before offering a faint smile to Atlas, "Your family is a handsome one. I am envious of all you happen to have."

Atlas grinned and looked Moema over for the first time, "Were I a single man, Doctor Suero…" he then shook Fontaine's hand and left.

Fontaine looked over Moema as she sat down and then towards the door. "I see you took a shine to Atlas…"

"He feels like an honest man." She shrugs, "I like honest men. I cannot be held at fault for my preferences."

"What if he cheated on his wife with you?"

Moema opened her mouth then shut it. After a long moment, much to Fontaine's amusement, she squared her gaze with his, "He wouldn't be an honest man and all that I like about him would be moot."

With a shake of his head, Fontaine chuckles, "You are one complex dame, Doc."

"Why is it you refuse to use my name and, instead, insist on silly nicknames?" she blurted out.

Fontaine gave a shrug, "I dunno, Doc. I can't bring myself to call you Suero… And I don't think you'll enjoy me usin' yer first."

"Hm." A short nod came from the woman in red, "You have a point, I suspect."

A small chuckle escaped Fontaine before he flagged down a waitress for food. The two ordered and shared rather insignificant discussion… Like weather.

"Do you miss the weather?" Moema asked.

Fontaine scoffed, "Nah. You?"

She got a far off look and nodded, "Of course. Sporadic mid-spring rains were so… Cleansing."

He scoffed, "Cleansing?"

She nodded, "Yeah. I could stand in it or sheltered from it and just feel…" her head shook as she searched the thoughts in her head, "like everything was getting washed away. Every deed, every sadness, every nightmare… Gone." Her bare shoulders bobbed in a shrug. "That's what it felt like for me."

Fontaine grew a serious look on his face as he rubbed at his chin. "I think I wanna see fer m'self…"

"Tch." Moema smirks, "Good luck with that."

He forced a grin back at her.

Their food was served and there was a little more conversation as they ate. When the food was cleared away, Fontaine set his napkin on the table and leaned back, "How do you feel about dancin'?" At the curious look on her face, he opens his hands and brings them up to either side of his torso. "I feel like dancin'."

For a long moment, Moema eyed Fontaine before leaning over the table a little, "What is it you want from me, Fontaine?"

He shrugged and noisily cleaned his teeth with a combination of tonguing and sharp sucking. "Ordinarily, I don't want nuthin' from no woman save one thing. I go through the formalities, the night ends, I take 'em home and that's that. But you… Forgive the classic use of the line, but you ain't like the other women here… And it ain't just your blood… I watched you at Ryan's party. You didn't take shit from no one and you certainly don't take shit from me… And, although I find that pretty annoyin', it's also intriguing." He shrugged and clapped his hands lightly before crossing his arms, "You intrigue me…"

She turned her head slightly, eyeing him warily.

Fontaine readjusts and leans his elbows on the table, arms still crossed, "I mean, when I went after you in the Bathysphere, you dished as good as you got… Had me goin'-"

"You don't believe me." Moema stated, shaking her head.

"What happened out there don't really concern me down here, Doc. You ain't got proof, do yuh?" he released his right hand to point at her.

A look of 'Are you stupid?' crossed Moema's face, "Who keeps evidence of such acts?"

He shrugs, "So no." a nod and then his right hand re-tucks into the crook of his left arm. "And it seems that tiny little you could take down any grown man is pretty far-fetched…"

Heaving a sigh, Moema nodded, as if this was her lot in life. "Great. Thanks for dinner, Fontaine." She then stood and headed out the door, leaving Fontaine to toss his hands up before giving chase.

"C'mon, Doc!" he called after her. "You can't blame me for not believing you!"

"And you can't blame me for being insulted by your blatant ass-hattery." She retorted with a small snarl. "Go home Fontaine… Or better yet, find yourself some night worker, as I'm sure you're accustomed to…"

Fontaine offered a dry chuckle before his longer legs caught up with her pace and set him in front of her, effectively halting her. "Would you calm down, Moema? Christ!" he latched onto her arms, "You gotta see it from my point'a view…"

She shook her head once more and let her tongue dart out to wet her lips, "I don't have to see anything from your point of view, Frank. Now kindly remove yourself from my person."

"If I do, you'll run off again…" When she rolled her eyes and looked away, he crouched slightly to get to her eyelevel and leaned to the side, "Hey, now, Ema…" the nickname drew a curious look from the dark skinned woman. "You are wearin' a smokin' red dress made for dancin'… So, let's just dance, a'ight?"

She opens her mouth and looks about in frustration, "Why do you focus on such trivial things?"

"Why do you only focus on the important shit? Take a break. You'll work yourself t'death, Ema." Came his response.

Grimacing, she shook out of his grasp, to which he raised both hands to free her. Then, she turned on her heel and headed back to Kashmir, leaving Frank to grin.


	4. Chapter 4

Moema checked on Patrick's heart beat as Moira and Atlas were in the room. Hearing a healthy beat, she nodded, "A healthy babe." Moira reached up and held Atlas' hand to her shoulder, a proud smile on her face.

Handing the child back to Moira, Moema jots down the information gathered from the quick check-up into a file. Once finished, she begins to close the folder, when Atlas sets something on the pages. It's wrapped in heavy paper and smells vaguely like Mackerel. Looking up at Atlas, Moema blinks, "What is this for?"

"For your help." He states earnestly. "Can't really pay you, but I can give you this."

She nodded slowly, "Alright. I wouldn't mind going back to this sort of payment."

Moira tilts her head curiously. "You've tended to people like us before?"

Moema chuckled, "I was you. Top side – even down here- I have skin that isn't pale and I am not a man. I was poor and people tried to take advantage… But I enjoyed reading and got my hands on medical books. That allowed me a greater medical knowledge. I was the go-to Doctor. People paid me with favors and food and protection. It was…" her brown eyes glance around for the words, "familial… Money is cold and uncaring. But a gift such as yours shows care and appreciation. I can appreciate it far better."

Moira's chin quivered and she buried her face into her baby's chest. Atlas was at her side almost instantly. "It's alright Moira…"

Reaching out, Moira gripped Moema's left hand and squeezed, "Thank you."

Opening her door that afternoon, days later, at the knocking, Moema was surprised at the appearance of Frank Fontaine. "Frank?"

"Hey Ema." He pointed, "Can I?"

She shrugged and let him in. She knew where all the knives and guns were hidden. "To what do I owe the pleasure."

"I had a very interesting conversation with Atlas a short while ago…" Frank states, moving to the couch and sitting after unbuttoning his suit jacket.

"That's nice." She said, bending down in the doorway to pick up the three baskets left by her patients. She shut the door absentmindedly with her foot while skimming for names of who these happened to be from. When she found the names she went to a satchel to heft out the folders to write down who had given what.

"Look at you, gettin' all them gifts! Must think yer some sorta saint!" Frank chuckles.

"Jealousy is an ugly perfume, Frank." She glanced up, "If it bothers you that I'm getting gifts, perhaps you should do something charitable to those who can't give you money?" He scoffed. "So what happened with Atlas?"

He clapped and leaned forwards quickly, pointing at her, "I knew you still wanted him!"

"He's a married patient. I like his wife and his infant son is adorable… For a baby. I like them. They're a great family. Earnest and honest and sweet." She responds, finishing her notes before setting the files back and then setting away the fruits and vegetables as well as the wine and hard liquor bottles.

Frank grumbles and leans back again, "Yanno he happens to be interested in you? Talks about how yer one of them and shit…" he waved his one hand around while leaning his head back to watch the sea beyond the window behind the couch.

"Again, I'm his Doctor. It's only natural he would wish to know me better… I take care of him and his family… His colleagues." She states, kneeling down on the opposite side of the coffee table. She'd been completing a puzzle. "Was there something else you came to discuss?"

"Eh." He shrugged, moving his gaze to fall upon her in her light green blouse and buttery yellow long skirt and house shoes. Her hair was braided once more. "Heard of Tenenbaum?"

"Brigid, yes. Smart woman… Lacking in basic humanity." Nods Moema.

Frank scoffed, "I s'pose. Been talkin' t'er a while now."

"Oh? What about?" presses Moema almost uncaringly

"Things." Comes a half-felt response.

"Ah, secrets. More secrets…" She nods, having expected such.

"I still don't know if I can trust you, Ema." Says the lounging man.

"Whatever you say, Frank." She gives a vague shrug and presses a piece into place correctly.

It's quiet a long moment before Frank leans forwards, "You know, men wish they were me and women wish they were with me!"

"Are you upset that since you won't trust me, I won't trust you? Or are you upset I won't fall for your tricks?" she looks up briefly, "That, in all honesty, I want nothing from you, thus you can't leverage me?"

He grits his teeth before leaning back again and leans his head back before setting his hands over his face. A growl and sigh of discontent escape him. He is shocked when he feels her straddle his lap.

"Is this what you want?" she asks softly, setting her hands to his shoulders. "You want what I won't give you because you think it is a means of control over me?"

The confusion on his caused her to smirk slightly and lean forwards, gently kissing him. He glanced around before turning away, "That's too easy."

"Ha!" she retracts and stands to move back to her puzzle, "That's what I thought."

"Yer a fuckin' riot, Ema."

"So I am aware." She nods.

There is urgent knocking on Moema's front door that startles her from a deep sleep. She pushes herself up and throws on her housecoat and shoes before grabbing her nightstand revolver. Brushing back her tangled mess of hair, she looks through the peep hole to see Frank and some other men. "What do you want, Frank?"

"Atlas needs yer help." he states.

"If this is some sort of ploy-"

"Damnit Ema! Open the fuckin' door! He's dyin' here!" comes the enraged tone of Frank, causing Moema to tisk before unlocking and opening the door. Frank pushes in and clears off her dining table with quickness. "Set 'im over here." he instructs.

Some of the men, all of whom had recently become her general patients, greeted her fleetingly as they carried Atlas to the table. Moema glanced out the door momentarily before shutting and locking the door. She pocketed her revolver and rushed to the bathroom to gather some supplies. Moving back to the dining room, she flipped on the over-head light and set down her supplies.

His entire shirt-front was soaked in blood. So much so that she couldn't tell immediately where the blood was coming from. "Holy mother of God." she murmured before snatching up a scalpel and slicing the shirt open. She shoved a roll of gauze in Peach Wilkins' hands and pointed to the gaping hole that was semi-revealed. "Cover that wound and apply pressure." she ordered before moving back to her kitchen and fetching a bowel and filling it with water. It sloshed violently as she rushed back to the table to set it down. Peach was pale and clearly confused. He was standing there, uncertain of what exactly to do.

So, Frank snatched the gauze and pushed Wilkins aside to do as Moema had instructed. "You men should go home to your families. We've got this covered." He states as Moema goes to work cleaning off the blood around the wound. The gaping wound was a little larger than a golf ball!

"God... It's an exit wound..." she whispered to herself.

"Exit wound?" Peach asked as the other men began out quickly. "Y'mean he been shot?"

"Most likely." nodded Moema. "Go, Mr. Wilkins." The older man nods slowly before rushing out and shutting the door behind himself, all the other men gone as well.

That left Moema, Frank, and Atlas. Moema removed what was left of the bullet inside Atlas and stitched shut the entry wound. She cleaned up what she could and did all she could before wrapping Atlas up. "I have a guest room. Can you carefully move him to it?" she asked Frank.

Frank gave a hesitant look before nodding and carefully scooping up Atlas and hauling him to the suggested room. That gave Moema a moment to catch her breath. She looked down at herself and found her nightgown covered with splotches of blood on the front. Even the housecoat and shoes were splattered. There was blood in the creases of her hands and around her nails... Under her nails... Heaving a small sigh, she glanced up briefly as Frank shut the door behind himself, having set Atlas down, and she began cleaning up.

He stood in front of the door, eyeing her a moment, "Y'alright?"

She shook her head, "I have two surgeries tomorrow." was all she said.

Frank scoffed, "Those broads can reschedule."

A rough sigh comes from Moema as she drops the tools with a clatter on the table and leans on it. "I thought my days of emergency bullet wounds were over, Frank. I thought, hey, Rapture is a brand new place with a slightly better culture, let's go there and try again... Right?" she looked up at him with her dark eyes, "Rapture was supposed to be better than top-side. And it's only been the smallest fraction better. There are still homeless, still a self-proclaimed elite... Some of the people I tend to, some of my patients, they can barely feed their children... What the hell are we all doing down here? I could have solved the problems that drove me down here by moving in any other direction! But I chose Rapture and I can't fathom why anymore." she bowed her head in slight resignation, "This place is turning out to be just as horrible as everywhere else."

Frank grimaced and glanced around for what to say. What could he say to that? It was him bringing the bibles and such down here... It was profitable! What could he say?

Moema straightened and continued cleaning up. Once things were packed away and the table cleaned off, she moved to the kitchen to clean the bowl before grabbing a domed lid and burning the bloodied gauze under it. She then pulled out the peroxide and filled the sink with cold water, splashing in a fair amount of the chemical. With that done, she pulled off her housecoat and shoes. "Put your bloodied clothes in the sink..." she states before moving to her bedroom to change into a bathrobe. Tying that shut around herself she walked back out to the kitchen sink and set her nightgown in the cold water as well. Frank had removed his suspenders and button-up.

"I'll buy a new jacket." he states, standing in his slacks and undershirt. He watches as Moema nods and stares at the soaking clothing items. "Are you alright, Ema?" he leans his backside against the counter, arms crossed until he reaches over to brush her hair from her face. She sucks in a breath and shakes her head before shrugging. "Well, you obviously care for the man..." He almost misses the disbelieving scoff and shake of her head.

"It's not that, Frank..." she states bitterly. "I have no one to talk to about these things... I don't think I have ever been more alone in my entire life..."

There is a long moment where Frank watches her as she stares at the floating items of clothing. "Still not talking to Maiara?"

She scoffs, "She told me not to." a dangerous look turns towards Frank, "Because of you, I assume." Moema pointed a still bloodied - but the blood was dried - finger at Frank who gives an incredulous yet amused look, "What is it you are forcing her into, Frank?"

"Nothing!" he laughs. "What is with your witch hunt concernin' me?" he holds out his hands and shrugs. "Why do you gotta find all these faults?"

Moema growls, "Why do you feel the need to always lie to me? Do you think I was born yesterday, Frank?" He says 'no' but she barrels on, "You're just like Don Antonio... That son-of-a-bitch got what was coming to him, Frank. Whatever you happen to be into, I recommend you leave it alone..." she took a step back, "It'll kill you." she then turned and began towards her room, "Are you going home tonight?"

Frank, who had been watching her with utter seriousness looks away and scratches at his forehead, "I dunno..." his stare returns to her, "Am I?"

She rolls her eyes and goes into her bedroom only to reemerge with extra blankets and pillows. She drops them on the couch before making her way to the bathroom. There is nothing that she says before closing the door behind her and starting up the shower.

Heaving a tired sigh, Frank went and sat down on the couch, then removed his shoes and socks. He hadn't realized how tired he was. For the love of Christ, what the hell was he doing anymore?

Moema walked out of the bathroom, clean and looked towards Frank who looked back at her. She motioned towards the bathroom after a moment, "Feel free to take a shower..." he nodded, but like her, made no effort to move. "There are... extra towels hung up..." he nodded again she glanced towards the clean dining room table. After another prolonged moment, she began moving to her door, "Goodnight." Frank took his shower and when he came out, he found the couch made up for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Moema looked up from the latest reports from Steinman. He was becoming so sloppy... She couldn't help but wonder just what substance he happened to abuse... Alcohol? It seemed most likely. He even smelled of it by the end of the day. Though, yesterday, while he was in Surgery, she went into his office and found his stash. She proceeded to fill up a portion with water and swirled it into the alcoholic beverage. Maybe she could wean him off of it without him knowing? It definitely wouldn't hurt to try.

Regardless of all of that, she looked up to find Ryan shutting her office door behind himself. "Mr. Ryan. This is a surprise indeed. How might I help you?"

He moved to sit across from her and glanced around her very organized office, "You know, Steinman isn't even half as organized as you!" Moema could only nod. He finally turned to look at her, "I've been shown some interesting footage from various security cameras and reports from the workers who operate the Bathyspheres..."

"Oh? What about?" she asked, setting her pen down and putting away her files.

"Frank Fontaine and a few other men carrying a bloodied citizen to your apartment door." he states with a very serious look on his face and curiously dangerous glint in his eyes. "Care to comment?"

Moema blinks a moment before taking a deep breath. "Of course, Mr. Ryan. Frank brought me one of his workers, a man named Atlas. He happened to be severely wounded-"

"Why not bring him here, to the Medical Pavilion?" scoffs Ryan, crossing one leg over the other.

"Mr. Ryan." begins Moema. "I am not sure if you have noticed, but the lower workers have no money to pay the high fees of this Pavilion. He would have died or his family would have starved." Ryan scoffs, but Moema carries on, "He would never have gone here, so I'm not taking business away. It's my time that I give, my knowledge and expertise-"

"What is this Atlas' condition?" presses Ryan.

"He's staying where I can keep an eye on him-"

"What!" barks Ryan, earning a very shocked look from Moema, "Is his condition?"

"... He's alive... For now." she finally answered, frowning at him.

"Have you an idea of what happened to him?"

She leans back before speaking, "In my experience, the wound inflicted upon Atlas resembles a nearly point-blank shot to the back. Nothing vital was hit-" she stops as he stands and goes for the door. "Mr. Ryan... Before you leave..."

"Good work Doctor Suera. Keep it up." states Ryan as he leaves, earning a very dark glare.

Moema was seated across from Frank, her legs crossed and one hand resting near her mouth. Frank swigged down the last of his whiskey and eyed the young woman across from him. "What's eatin' you?" When Moema didn't seem to respond, he knocked on the table, "Ema." that startled her into looking over at him, "What's goin' on with you?"

Her eyes darted around in realization that she was at Kashmir with Frank. "Oh," she sighed and settled her gaze to his, "Nothing."

A waitress set another glass in front of Frank before taking the old one, leaving Frank to take a sip and point at Moema with the one hand that held the glass. "Now who's lying?" she offered a rather forced smirk before looking back out at the small crowd. "What's wrong?"

"... Do you think they realize?" she asks quietly.

The confusion on Franks face went missed by Moema. She surely would have laughed. "What are you talkin' about, Moema?"

She looked back at him again, "Do you?"

For a moment, all he can do is stare. What kind of answer is she looking for? He blows out some air, puffing his cheeks before shaking his head, "I dunno. Depends on what the hell yer talkin' 'bout?" Her head turned to continue staring at the upper-class of Rapture, leaving Frank to shake his head again.

"I'm talking about how these people live while the people working their asses off can barely feed their children, much less themselves. These people have nice new clothes, they get to partake in art, fine items, fine furniture... They dance, they gossip, they sneer..." she shakes her head this time, "I shouldn't have come down here..."

Frank can't explain it, but that hollow admission irked him. "I think I might get offended..."

"Don't be so shallow, Frank. You know as well as I... Rapture is going to be just like top-side cities." she finally looks away and turns to sit correctly. Her untouched drink finally gets sipped at.

"Whatever this rut you're in is, get out of it, and fast, Ema." Frank says quite seriously, pointing at her once more. "I don't like you like this."

A rough scoff comes from Ema, "Well excuse me for being a human being, Frank."

"You know that's not what I meant." he barks. "The hell is wrong with you tonight?"

"Ryan barged into my office earlier." that wiped the agitated look from Frank's face. "He's a real piece of work."

"What he want?"

"To ask - if you can call that asking - about you and the guys bringing Atlas to me the other night. I mean, what..." her hands fly out in a partial shrug, "It's been four, five days since then?" she scoots closer to the table and leans her elbows on it to point at the table, "He barges in and starts asking in this... Accusatory manner about just what the hell you were doing bringing some dying guy to my apartment. And when I try to explain some things to him, he fuckin' shouts at me!" she clenches her pointing hand and clenches her jaw as she looks down. Cursing... It was something she tried very hard not to do.

A rough hand covered her fist, causing her to look up, "He yelled at you?"

"He kept asking what Atlas' condition was, so I wanted to explain a sort of circumstance about the issue - I figured he was concerned about why some of the citizens couldn't go to the Pavilion... He then had the audacity to shout the question at me again..." she shook her head, "I wanted to strangle him for his... Behavior."

"What did you tell 'im?"

"That Atlas was alive." she grimaced at the recollection. "He then asked if I knew what happened to Atlas. I told him that his wound best resembled a shot to the back. Then, while I was trying to discuss the safety of the lower class with him, he just left... Like he didn't even care..." she shook her head again, "Who the hell does he think he is? A society doesn't work well unless those in the lowest parts work well..."

Frank watched Moema a long moment. "I wanna open up an orphanage... For the daughters of Rapture." That caught Moema's attention.

"Why?"

"Ema..." Frank scoffs, "Why do you always do that?"

She rolls her eyes, "You haven't dealt with rich white men as an outcast, Frank. Men like you always have ulterior motives for the so-called charities you do..."

He shifts, "Can you just once take me at my word?"

Her head tilts challengingly, "And what word would that be?" she leaned closer, "The word where you won't tell me what you've frightened Maiara with? The word I know you're hiding, tucked far away? Hm? What word should I take you at?"

Frank groaned, "You really do this here?"

Moema shook her head, "I need some time to myself. Thanks for the drink." she states, gently flicking the still practically full long-island. Standing, she gathered her purse and left. Frank just shook his head.


	6. Chapter 6

Moema allowed frequent visits from Moira to Atlas who was beginning to show signs of consciousness in the way his body moved when Moira and Patrick made noise around him. To make herself feel better, Moema was dancing around with Patrick in her arms, causing fits of giggling from the almost 1-year-old. She made sure to cradle his head when she dipped Patrick before popping back up to do twirls with the babe. He loved it and his joy brought joy to Moema. Moira stepped out and shut the door to the guest room before grinning widely at Moema and Patrick. "Ah've never seen y'so lively, Doctor Suera."

A small chuckle came from the young woman, "It's your son's doing, I assure you."

A prideful grin crossed Moira's features, "Per'aps I c'n cook fer you... After all yeh've done fer us..."

Moema slowed down to an easy sway and looked towards Moira, "If you really feel obligated and if it will help you in any way, you are more than welcome to use what I have."

Smiling, Moira approached and pecked her son's cheek. "How d'yuh know it'll help me?"

Moema offered a soft smile, "It's how my mother dealt with things... It's how many women deal with things. I've dealt with my fair share of upset mothers and wives and sisters to understand the way simple chores can help ease stress."

Moira got teary eyed and nodded, trying to maintain her level head. "Thank you..." she then cleared her throat, "I 'eard tha' some men 'ave been using ADAM to heal their ills."

A grimace crossed Moema's features, "I don't like using ADAM as much as others. It's not a miracle. It's a cancerous toxin that we barely know enough about... I have healed many men from gunshot wounds, Moira. Please, have faith in my abilities..."

"But wha' if it is God's Miracle?"

"It isn't." Moema states, "One of my colleagues has done a fair amount of testing on ADAM, which comes from these... Slugs. And she found that not only is it a highly addictive substance, if the users body is without it, it destroys the body... I will never approve of using it as a cure-all until it is refined and has - at the very least - a less severe fine print."

"But what about your work? Don't you use it for them Cosmetic Surgeries?"

Moema sighs, "I really wish I didn't have to. It's so ridiculously dangerous... I wouldn't want to risk it." she shifts Patrick to her hip, "Say I were to use ADAM on Atlas... While doing so, yes, it would heal his wounds a lot faster, but, he would need more and more and more until his body solely depended on the ADAM. When he awoke after such abuse, all he would care about would be the ADAM. This stuff even does terrible things to the mind... There is one man that I know of who used to work in the Fisheries... From what I understand, he was fairly intelligent, but he took ADAM when his leg broke... He isn't even the same person anymore. He looks crooked and he speaks in a strange fashion... He doesn't even remember who he is! Is that what you want for Atlas? For yourself? For your son? That would be terrible and I refuse to be the one responsible for such a tragedy."

Moira ducked her head and covered her mouth. "What if he never wakes up?"

"Have you forgotten already?" asks Moema, voice soothing and sympathetic. "When you first came here to see Atlas, he was completely unresponsive... But, just earlier today, his hand squeezed yours. Is that not something to give hope? He's coming back... Albeit slowly. You must give him time. He will survive." A slow nod came from Moira before she slowly trudged to the kitchen area to familiarize herself with it.

A sharp inhale drew a curious look from Moema over to Atlas. He blinked rapidly while staring at the - no-doubt better - ceiling above him. Leaning over to get a better look at him, Moema offers a faint smile, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Atlas..."

His eyes seem to glance over her face in slow recognition before he smiles charmingly back. "Why, thankee." he croaks out. "I'd think I was in 'eaven if I 'adn't met y'before."

Chuckling slightly, Moema clears her throat and holds up her finger, "Can you follow my finger with just your eyes?" His eyes strain to focus on her finger before following the movement in a delayed fashion. She nods, "How are you feeling?" her hand dropping to help guide her to sit beside Atlas. She plucks up his wrist and searches for his pulse, keeping an eye on her watch.

"Like I've been run over..." He states, "'Ow long 'ave I been 'ere?"

There is a pause before she sets down his wrist and looks at him, "Well... About three months."

"Three months!?" he cries out, alarmed.

"Yes." Nods Moema, rather calm. "Frank Fontaine and a few others brought you to my door at one in the morning. I've kept you here so as to keep you alive and keep your family from completely starving."

"Oh, Lord!" his hand came up to cradle his forehead, "Moira... Patrick..."

"They are quite well, Atlas. They've visited every day for a long time now. I've employed your wife to make meals and tend to you so that you stay clean and without sores... She likes it here. And, she loves you."

"Why not 'ave her stay 'ere then?" Atlas asks.

"As you may not know, I have no child. My home is ill equipped for harboring children." chuckles out Moema before she pats his hand. "They'll be by tomorrow morning, I promise." She sighs, "Would you like some time to rest?"

"I think 'ah've rested too long..." Atlas says, attempting to push himself into a sitting position. He hisses in pain but pushes through it to sit straight up. "Good Lord Almighty."

Moema shook her head lightly before propping some pillows behind him. "Lean back." He wasn't one who'd question that advice! "You need to take it easy for a while. Alright, Atlas?"

He pants lightly and nods, "A'course." his hand drifts to the wound under his ribs. "What 'appened?"

A surprised look crosses Moema's features, "You don't recall?" When Atlas looks to Moema and shakes his head, she frowns. "Well... The wound resembled a nearly point blank shot from behind. I am unsure who exactly found you or even saw anything - I'm no detective! - but you could have - would have died had you not made it to a professional in time."

Atlas seemed to think about that a long moment, "Who brought me 'ere?"

"A group of Fisheries men and Fontaine himself. He helped me work on you." she offered a faint smile, "He would make an excellent nurse... You know... If he lost the attitude." There was a very small chuckle from Atlas causing Moema to figure she shouldn't tell jokes. Clearly, they weren't her strong suit. "Peach Wilkins, Craig Gilmore, Berney Richards, and Kelly Graceland carried you. They ask about your wellbeing every check-up." That was a partial lie. None had asked about Atlas this month. They couldn't even really recall what Atlas looked like, or recall where they remembered the wound to be! But, she figured it'd be better to feel like other people actually cared.

Atlas smiled and nodded, "Tha's awful nice of 'em."

A silence settles over the two, "Would you like a book, or I can drag in my radio... I don't have a television."

Atlas offered a roguish grin, "I dun think I'm smart enough fer yer type o'books, Doctor Suero."

"You don't have to be so formal with me, right now, Atlas." Moema states, "You might enjoy The Diary of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain..."

A brow quirked on Atlas' face, "Ain't biblical reference books banned?"

"To be honest with you, yes. But, I believe it isn't the book that creates madness, but that madness is already blooming and the book just gives directions on ideals and methods." she sighs, "People tend to read things, interpret things differently each time. People decide select books with select notions best fit their mindset and take it several steps further... It happens. Humans want purpose. We want answers because we think answers will sooth our fears. They don't... Not all the time." Atlas seemed to be absorbing this information slowly so Moema shook her head, "I apologize. If you don't wish to read that, I have a few other Mark Twain books. His writing tends to appeal to quite a few different types of people."

"Nah, I'll read what ye said. I just did'n think ye one fer breakin' rules... Though, I s'pose I should've." At the tilt in Moema's head, Atlas quickly attempted to elaborate, "Wha' I mean is that... You're 'elpin' us - the poor - while you live a wealthier life! Shit... Not that I dislike you or nuthin' fer makin' it... I don't- Eh- What I mean is-"

Moema laughed lightly, "It's alright, Atlas. I understand." she stood and straightened out the creases in her long yellow skirt, which happened to be her favorite color and skirt at the moment. "I'll go and get that book and some tea." A grin crossed her face, "Take a moment to breathe."

His eyes widened ever-so-slightly at the blatant teasing joke before he blushed and laughed at himself and the situation he was in. He watched her walk out of the door and thought fleetingly of what it might be like to pursue a woman like Moema. After a moment, he came to the conclusion that, despite her having been in a possibly worse situation before Rapture, she was now one of the 'Elite'. She was too intelligent and too wealthy to consider him equal, and he wasn't sure his ego could tolerate that. She had the advantage over him and he was rather jealous of her journey so far... But he could tell that that very journey made her what she is, who she is, and the confidence she had when she spoke... As if she never thought herself wrong! It was almost intoxicating... And she as always rather calm... Even when clearly agitated, she seemed thoughtful and calm.

That brought him to the memory of meeting her at Kashmir... The way she interacted with Fontaine... Had the two some form of history? Wait! Hadn't he seen Moema before that? He could swear he had... Oh yes! At the Market with... That one woman who resembled Moema... Maya? Maira? Mary? Maiara... Yes. Maiara. The odd name... They often spoke in a dialect Atlas didn't know.

His attention was brought to Moema as she walked in with two cups of tea and a book tucked neatly under her arm. "Here we are." she states, setting down the two cups very carefully before standing straight and handing the obviously read book to Atlas. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it." He held the book in a way that made it seem like he'd never held one before as she sat down and picked up what she'd been reading before.

He clutched the book before opening and beginning to read. Every so often, he would look towards Moema. He couldn't focus on the reading...


	7. Chapter 7

Moema entered her home to find Atlas and Frank sitting on her couch, chatting, while Patrick napped in the armchair and Moira cooked. The adults looked towards Moema who hung up he light jacket and slipped off her shoes. "Welcome back, Moema." greeted Moira who smiled widely. It was still so exciting to her that her husband was regaining himself more and more every day. It'd only been a week since he had woken up!

"Thank you Moira. Smells lovely." nodded Moema who set her bag by the armchair before gently scooping up Patrick and bringing him to her bedroom. She set him down and created a little nest around him. She then put on her house shoes and went back out to the living room. The door she left cracked open. "Fancy seeing you in my home, Frank."

A small and forced smirk crossed his features, "I would have asked, but you've got Jamison workin' th'desk now... He won't let me past." Frank's tone was rather accusing.

"That's why I put him there. Besides, Yolandi could do with some more stimulating work... Don't you think?" Moema states, pulling her bag into her lap to shuffle through the contents. "Did you think I was joking when I said I needed time, Frank?"

"It's been weeks, Ema..." Frank scoffs, earning curious looks from the married couple. "How long am I supposed to wait for you to sort yer shit out?"

"Since it happens to be me doing the sorting, I would expect when I'm finished." she shook her head, "When you entered my life, Frank, you changed it in a way that I'm not able to differentiate from vivid dreams." Frank started to get this cocky look on his face but she pointed at him, "Don't even think like that, Mr. Fontaine. The kind of dreams I happen to be speaking about are the kind that are confounding and pointless... A regurgitated rambling of the mind. That is the kind of dream I feel like I'm in when you're involved." she sighed and crossed her arms, "Don't get me wrong, I enjoy helping those ignored by the system, I enjoy the opportunities and occurrences that have come upon your wave of chaos... But you... You are a frustrating man to deal with." Setting her bag down, having not taken anything out yet, she leaned forwards, "You make it seem as if you are entitled to my time and my things... You barge into my life having just been the catalyst in severing the most important relationship I've ever had as if I accepted you in personally. You then proceed to vaguely threaten me after cornering me and make it seem as if it happens to be a preferred game for you." Her posture became fairly imposing as her spine straightened and shoulders squared. "I am no toy nor a willing participant. You are not entitled to me or my possessions or my time or even my affections. So either you respect my need for time and space or I will personally end you. I'm through with your games."

For a very long time, everyone seems to sit in silence; Frank staring at Moema who glares back, the married couple watching both carefully. Finally, a sharp scoff comes from Frank before he stands and just shakes his head as he leaves. And, although much of the tension is gone, there is still some left.

"I am so sorry, Moema..." Moira finally stutters out. "I let 'im in..."

"That is hardly your fault, Moira. Frank Fontaine is... A lot of things." Moema shakes her head.

"I weren't aware you an' Mr. Fontaine were-" began Atlas.

"We were never a couple, Atlas. We were hardly even friends." sooths Moema.

"Oh, I see." he nods. "... Did you just threaten Frank Fontaine?"

"Yes. I did."

"And he just left..." Moira continues in place of her husband, "He accepted the threat and left?"

A small sigh came from Moema. "Yes. I must ask of you both to never discuss what had just happened tonight. He will trace it back to both of you, since he knows I do not gossip. You both have one another and Patrick, so it would be in all of your best interest to never mention this to anyone. Do you understand what I am asking of you? Frank is a dangerous man. It is best to be careful when it concerns him."

Both nod quietly earning a nod from Moema. That was when noises from Moema's bedroom began, so she stood and fetched Patrick.

"Doctor Suero?" came Jamison's voice called through the intercom, "The Head of Security is here to see you."

Moema frowned in confusion, "Send him in." it took less than thirty seconds for the tired-looking man to enter. "Mr... Sullivan?"

He offered a faint smile, "You remembered."

She smiled faintly, "I tried." shutting the folder and setting down her pen, she motioned to the chair in front of her desk, "Please, have a seat."

"Oh, thank you." Sullivan states before sitting.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" She had debated being snarky but figured not to do so because Sullivan didn't strike her as a man who had the patience for her kind of snark.

He cleared his throat, "I'm quite certain you know why I'm here."

"If you are here because Ryan has issues with my helping save a life, then yes. If not, no. I am unaware of whatever toe I stepped on of Ryan's this time." She states as kindly as she possibly can.

Sullivan pulled out a pen and paper and jotted something down real quick, "No. This is about Fontaine."

"Oh, how fantastic..." She says rather sarcastically, earning a quirked brow from Sullivan. "Ryan and Fontaine... They were made for one another, I think. Both seem to enjoy taking advantage of people and bothering me." she leans back with a small growl, "What toe did Fontaine step upon this time?"

For a moment, Sullivan sat there, staring at Moema. "As I am sure you have heard, Fontaine has opened the Little Sister's Orphanage and will be opening Fontaine's Home for the Poor."

"I don't see how those are crimes... Unless being considered a kinder man than Ryan could ever be is suddenly a crime... If it is a newfound crime, all of Rapture should be imprisoned." Despite that she had not meant it to be a joke, Sullivan chuckled at her statement and wrote it down.

When Sullivan calmed, he scratched at his nose before carrying on, "What makes you say that?"

"When he found out about Atlas being taken to my home for treatment, he cared nothing for the man, in fact, I would assume he wanted the man dead! Instead, he cared more about the idea that a large portion of Rapturites would never come to the Medical Pavilion for any reason, since they cannot afford it. He doesn't care for people. He only cares for what he can control. Are you aware of how dangerous that is for a man of his stature?" Sullivan glance downwards in silent admission. "If Ryan isn't careful... If the people aren't careful... Rapture will fall..."

A slow bobbing nod came from Sullivan, "Are you now or have you ever been in a relationship with Frank Fontaine?"

"No. I wouldn't dare to call he and I friends." She snarled.

"There are witnesses who state that they have seen you both together on more than one occasion."

"The first time I saw Frank was in the Farmer's Market when I was on my way to meet my mother. The second time he cornered me in a Bathysphere, and the third he barged into my office."

"What about the seven times you both have been together at Kashmir?" he pressed.

"The first was to introduce me to Atlas as a means of bringing to poor health care of the lower Workers. Every time after that... I wouldn't call a dare... Just a social get-together... More or less." she shook her head, "I'm not too sure how to describe the relationship between he and I..."

"I see... Does he confide in you?" at the dip of her head and furrow of her brow, he rotated his hand in the air, "About anything at all?"

She took a moment, "No. That was one of the reasons he and I did not connect... He refuses to actually trust me, so, I refuse to be near him."

"Has he explained any plans to you?"

"Only that orphanage."

"Would that not be confiding, Doctor?"

Moema rolled her eyes, "No. He was boasting. He wanted to get a leg up with me. I wasn't paying enough attention to him, apparently."

Sullivan choked on a bit of laughter before jotting that down to. When he calmed, he cleared his throat, "There is evidence of a woman visiting your home from six in the morning to seven at night, sometimes later..."

"That would be Moira... With the baby?" Sullivan nodded. "She is Atlas' wife. I hired her to tend to him while I am here at work. She cooks and cleans as well."

"She still do?"

"Yes." Moema nodded, watching Sullivan write.

"A few nights ago, people have claimed to have seen Frank leave your home in clear agitation." he looked up at her, "Care to elaborate on what happened?"

"He entered my home after I had told him that I needed time away from him. I told him to leave me alone and he left." she shrugged. "Granted, I used far more words than just 'Leave me alone'."

"That seems rather improbable."

"Believe me, I understand. I was expecting him to argue... I was almost certain I would have to shoot him." That drew a chuckle from Sullivan.

Finally, he shut his notepad and stood. "It's been a pleasure, Doctor Suera. Keep up the good work..." he went for the door but stopped, "But, for your own safety, stay away from Fontaine."

"You say that as if he's going to behave and give me the choice."

"Maybe... Maybe not. But you are too smart for your own good."

"You are not the first to have told me such." she nodded, "Have a pleasant day, Mr. Sullivan."

"You too, Doctor Suero."


	8. Chapter 8

Atlas handed the book back to Moema, "You were right. I enjoyed it." She offered a small smile as she ran her fingers over the spine before holding it close. Atlas stalled a moment as he looked downwards, "It'll be strange... Not waking up here..."

A nod came from the woman, "It will be strange without someone here..."

"Maybe Moira can still clean for you?" offered Atlas, "Then I'll be able to visit from time to time." The blatant hope behind his eyes caused Moema to open and shut her mouth repeatedly before nodding.

"That would be pleasant..." her statement made Atlas smile widely but she did not return it this time. "Atlas... You are married and you have a beautiful son. We have spent a lot of time together as of late and it is nice... But you and I need to be very careful about how we approach this. We must only be friends, understand?"

His grin dropped and he looked a little disheartened before nodding. "Prolly fer th'best."

Moema nodded, "Indeed..." The two then looked to the door as it opened to a hasty Moira. "Moira, are you alright?"

Moira shook her head and quickly rushed to Atlas to hug him tightly, Patrick between them. "Atlas, it was awful!" she declared.

"Moira." Atlas pulled her back to look her over, "What 'appened?"

"Ryan's takin' all the little girls... That Orphanage was doin' somethin' awful to the girls sent there."

That piqued Moema's interest, "What?"

Moira looked to Moema, "Fontaine's Orphanage is doing something to the little girls... It's all a lie!"

The look of disappointment and rage on Moema's face was clear before she shut her eyes to inhale and exhale. "I don't want you three to return... I would feel better if you all stayed here." Moema rushed to the couch and pulled it out slightly only to flip it on its back to reveal a machete a shotgun and a few handguns and ammunition. She only took a handgun and extra clip. Although she was sure she'd be fine, she didn't want to risk it right now... Not with this news... You don't mess with someone's children. Period. "Do not answer the door, do not leave. Lock it behind me." she said before heading out of the door without saying a word.

Moema had looked everywhere for Fontaine but found him in the last place she would expect; Her living room. "Heard you been lookin' for me." No words came from Moema as she checked outside the door before shutting it. She then went and checked the bathroom, the guest room, and her own bedroom before halting herself in front of Fontaine.

"What have you done with them, Fontaine?"

He pulled a face, "I didn't do anything to anyone, Ema."

"Tch. I don't believe you, Fontaine... Where are they?" she growled, fists clenching tightly.

"Who?" The glare she gave caused him to smirk, "Oh, Atlas Moira and Patrick?"

"Who the hell else would I be speaking of, Fontaine?"

"They're gone." He lied, looking at his nails a moment to portray a sort of nonchalance. "Ran off." he pointed to the door, "Left it wide open."

Moema glanced back at the door a moment before returning a suspicious look to Fontaine. "You're lying."

A small laugh echoed in the living room. "You never could believe me..."

"Because you're a lying shit." spits Moema. "That Orphanage... What are you and Ryan doing to those little girls you claim to be helping?"

"Ryan ain't doin' shit, Ema." he states, crossing one leg over the other.

"He's forcibly taking the daughters of many of the poorer people." Her statement drew a small eye-roll from Frank. "What have you done, Frank?"

His eyes connected with hers before he stood to button his jacket and straighten it. "I'm just tryin' ta help the people, Ema."

"No, you're not. You don't care about them... You're just like Ryan." She was thoroughly surprised when he was suddenly in front of her, his hands clutching her shoulders.

"I'm nothin' like that stiff! Nothin', y'hear me?!" he shook her slightly.

"Attacking me isn't quite helping your case, Fontaine." growled the shaken woman.

Frank released her and shook his head. "He don't care for anything, Ema... Nothin' but him."

"Oh? And you're a miraculous exception to the same trait?" she sassed darkly.

"I care fer more than myself, Ema... I care about more." he explains, frustrated and pacing the length of the coffee table.

"Oh? Like your wallet? Image?"

He looked sharply at her and just stared a moment, "I care about one more thing... I care about a woman... And she's insufferable... Smart mouthed bleedin' heart!" he stepped fully in front of her. "I care about you, Moema..." She stands there, silent, as her brain slows down to register what he just said. "Say somethin', damnit!"

"I don't..." she took a step back but he caught her arms and held her steady and close. "Then why do you always lie to me?"

"Ema..." he sighs and shakes his head slowly as he looks downwards. "In the things I end up doin', it's best I don't tell you a single thing about what I do..." he leveled his gaze with hers, "It was fer yer own good... You gotta trust me on this. The less you know, the safer you'll be." When she still looked suspiciously at him, he sighed, "Please... Just this once, trust me. I'll fix everything..."

Before she could react, he leaned down and kissed her rather passionately before heading out the door. Moema stood there, a little wide-eyed, fingers to her lips. It was hardly romantic... She felt no passion... Her mind raced a moment before halting on the family she had left in her home. She cursed under her breath and paced for a few minutes to give Frank time to leave the area before rushing out once more.

Moema was in Neptune's Bounty before she knew it and she went to where she knew Sullivan would be. Several people halted her from moving further into the Station area and it was her luck when Sullivan began walking by, "Mr. Sullivan. I need a quick word with you..."

He looked over at her, staring, before shoving the paperwork files he was going over under his arm to approach her. "Doctor Suero. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure."

"I don't know of the loyalty of the people you happen to work with, so perhaps we can go somewhere a little more private with less ears..." she states, glancing from person to person. She misses the surprised quirk in Sullivan's brows.

Nodding, Sullivan motions her to follow him to the back, where the interrogation and observation rooms reside. It was a bit messy, seeing as more incidents were popping up. "This is as private as it gets, Doctor Suero."

A short nod comes from Moema before she cradles her arms against herself. Her throat clears before she speaks, "I have heard a few awful things about what both Frank and Ryan are doing..." Sullivan pulled a face momentarily. "I don't..." she sighs, "I was letting Atlas go home today. Moira, his wife, was to come and gather him up to get him home... But she came in in an absolute panic. She said the little girls who were not to go to the Little Sister's Orphanage were being snatched up. She was terrified and upset."

"What about you?" Sullivan asks, pulling out his pen and paper.

"I was livid." she spits, her cradling arms turning into a tight crossing. "I felt lied to and I don't know what I was thinking... That... Rat bastard." she scoffed, "Both of them."

"Who?"

"Fontaine and Ryan!" She hissed. "Neither care about the people. They just want what they think they deserve... Neither deserve a damned thing anymore. Greedy garbage." her head shook before she set a hand to her head, "I told Atlas and Moira to stay in my apartment when I went to look for Fontaine to get some answers... I must have looked all over Rapture, but I couldn't find him. When I came home, Moira, Patrick, and Atlas were missing and in their place was Fontaine. He was waiting for me... And when I asked about where they'd gone, he made up this story about how when he showed up, the door was wide open."

"And you don't believe him?" Sullivan asked, scarcely glancing up as he wrote.

"Of course not! I am fairly adept at telling when he blatantly lies... The tricky ones are when there is some truth... He said he didn't touch them... I suspect that might be true... But he is definitely responsible for their disappearance. They have a baby boy, Mr. Sullivan. Atlas still needs a few things despite being able to go home now... I've given Moira a job... He is directly responsible for their vanishment, I know it. It was in the way he said he didn't have anything to do with it."

Sullivan let silence fill the air as he finished writing before looking up at her. "Why would he want them gone?"

"I'm not exactly sure and I really hope it isn't because of his proclaimed affections for me... I prefer men like Atlas... Honest men who make honest wages. Fontaine is the furthest thing from being an Honest men and he makes the furthest thing from an Honest wage." she growls, using one hand to emphasize her words. She sighed and shook her head before rubbing at her forehead.

"Have you and Atlas explored your prefer-"

"Of course not!" she shouted. "Why would I do that to them? Why would he do that to his wife?"

"Honest Men are still men, Doctor Suero..." Sullivan states, quirking a brow at her. "Listen Doctor... I can tell that you're one of the good people in a sea of God awful folks... Try your hardest to stay away from politics and being charitable... Things are getting crazy around here and it'd be terrible if you got wrapped up in it."

She blinked at him, "What are you saying? Are you going to look for them?"

He sighed, "I'll bring this up to Ryan-" Moema growled and turned, leaving the room. When she got out to the grouping of desks, Sullivan called after her, "Doctor! I'll do all I can, but-"

"You're working for a man who cares nothing for you, me, or anyone, Mr. Sullivan. How does that make Rapture a paradise for the people?" she turned and pointed, "If you fools continue taking his selfish orders, you're going to be the horsemen bringing destruction and civil unrest to Rapture. The kidnapping of children? The freedom to abuse whichever substance... A society cannot survive without rules... A building cannot stand without structure." her head shook, "The 'structure' of Rapture was built upon airy ideals of a man tired of rules. Rules keep order. Order keeps humanity. Without order, humanity is nothing but part of the animal kingdom. Do you understand? Do you, Mr. Sullivan? Ryan and Fontaine are killing us, damning us all. We will all die down here..." she offered a forced smile of indignation, "And who is going to care? We'll be dead and no one will know. No one."

"Doctor Suero... I will do my best-"

"Is it money you are honest to?" She stepped closer, "Is that it? Money?" He remained silent as she approached. "I will give you everything I have just so that you will do your damn job as a Public Servant. I will give you all I have if you stop being Ryan's lapdog... If you do something about the crimes..."

It gets quiet as Moema stares intensely at Sullivan. The other 'Officers' watch curiously. Sullivan sighs and swallows before speaking, "I cannot accept that-"

"How long before your humanity catches up with you, Mr. Sullivan?" Her brown eyes squint dangerously at him, "You know that the things you do for that crooked, crooked man will eat you alive... And here's the funny part..." she chuckles dryly, "Ryan won't care." her feet moved her back two steps, "Good day to you, Mr. Sullivan... Because we both know that Rapture is going to Hell!" she then left, leaving Sullivan to think about it.

Moema walked into Aesthetic Ideals and looked at Jamison who handed her some mail and files. "Uh, Doctor?" he stopped her as she was about to head off to her office. When she looked to him again, he continued; "Yolandi didn't come in today... She stayed after hours... Her things are still in her locker." he seemed nervous about this next bit, "So are Doctor Steinman's."

"Did you check his office?"

"Yes. No one is in there..." he nodded.

"And Surgery?"

Jamison shook his head, "We've no surgeries scheduled today..."

Moema nodded very slowly, "Damn..."

"Should I call-"

"No. No one will help us in the way we need..." she growled. "Make sure the shotgun under this desk-" she pointed to the reception desk Jamison stood behind, "- is ready... Just in case."

He leans over the desk, "I've never used a gun before!"

She chuckles, "None of the nurses here have used a gun. That's why there's a shotgun and nod a rifle or handgun." With that dealt with, she moves to her office to set down her things before gathering up a revolver and stuffing it down the back of her skirt waist band. Leaving her office, Moema went to Surgery and entered to find Yolandi unconscious - possibly dead - on the operating table with Steinman raving and thrusting at thin air. She turned right around and went to Jamison, "We're closed. Go home and don't return until I tell you."

Jamison went wide eyed, "But, Doctor Suero... What's happened?"

"Steinman's lost his mind. Quickly, leave."

"What about you? Shouldn't you leave?" he asked as Moema went to head back to Surgery.

"I need to calm Steinman and get Yolandi the hell out of there." came the easy answer from Moema.

"But, won't you need... Backup?"

"You don't know how to use a gun. It's best you close up and go home. Alright?"

"I can't just leave-"

"You can and you will, Jamison. Rapture is going to hell, so take care of yourself." she nods as he shakes his head, "Do as I say. This is for your own protection. Go." With that, she went back to Surgery to find Steinman's pants around his ankles. She was thankful his coat covered what she really did not wish to see of Steinman. But it was clearly obvious he was masturbating. She noticed a nearby oxygen tank and carefully picked it up. With it held steadily over her head, she moved close enough to toss it at Steinman's head. When she did, the noise of his head being struck echoed in the Surgery room. Unsure if that would keep him down depending on what substance he did recreationally, or rather, habitually, Moema rushed to Yolandi and lifted the surgery veil over her face only to gasp and drop it in horror.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted the veil fully before checking for a pulse. There was one, but it was thread-y.

"Damnit Steinman..." muttered Moema before she looked for an easier way to transport Yolandi out of here...

"Need a hand, Doctor Suero?" came Sullivan's voice as several other 'Officers' and he stepped in. At the glare she tossed at him, he held up his hands. "We were investigating Dandy Dental when we ran into Jamison Kenith. He said that you told him to go home because something was wrong."

Moema scowled. "Steinman is a so-called 'friend' of Ryan's. You fools won't do anything so why bother?"

"Just because-" began Sullivan before being interrupted as Frank Fontaine rushed in calling for 'Ema'.

A small growl escaped Moema who turned back to Yolandi to scoot the unconscious woman towards her. Pulling Yolandi to sit up, Moema set the paler woman's arms over her back, making it so Yolandi was leaning over Moema's shoulder. With that settled, Moema pressed the hand of the shoulder Yolandi was resting on to Yolandi's shoulder before looping her free arm around Yolandi's knees. Now with a firm grip, Moema stepped back from the table and took the opposite stairs Frank was barreling down. The large group of men watched her in awe as she single handedly carried a woman slightly taller than herself up a set of stairs and out the door.

"Ema!" Frank called before glaring at Sullivan. Turning on his heel, he almost tripped up the stairs before giving chase to Moema. "Would you wait a minute?"

"She needs help." was all Moema said as she entered her office, which had an operating table. She carefully laid the other woman down before strapping her down to it.

"What's with the straps?" Frank asks curiously before watching Moema rush around.

Moema pulls a few things over to the operating chair before washing her hands and slapping on a medical smock. "Steinman likes to use a lot of ADAM. If she wakes up with all that ADAM in her system, she's going to try something crazy. ADAM should never have been introduced as a Medical Miracle... But why would anyone listen to me, hm?"

The bitterness did no escape Frank, but when he went to respond, Yolandi's eyes snapped open and she began screeching. "Christ!"

"Step back, Fontaine." Moema calls before beginning to put IV's in Yolandi as well as a few other cords. As Yolandi struggled, Moema pointed a scalpel at the struggling woman, "You will sit still, Yolandi. And you will do so this very instant!"

The wide-eyed half-crazed look in Yolandi's eyes showed fear and recognition... But at least she stopped moving. "Doctor..."

"Hush. Let me see what I can do for you, Yolandi... I need to clean out your system before the ADAM settles..."

"It's too late..." Yolandi sobbed. Moema glanced up briefly before making a quick incision in Yolandi's side. "OW!"

"I can't use anesthetics... You're most likely too unstable for it." Moema states before looking to Frank, "If you're going to help, wash your hands and put on the extra smock... If not, step back.."

He blinks momentarily before going to wash his hands and remove his jacket. That was when Sullivan and several other men walked in.

"Doctor Suero, I need a word." Sullivan asks, tilting his head at the conscious and grimacing woman with the lopsided and distorted face.

"Have you not enough of your own, Mr. Sullivan? I'm busy right now. So you can either stand and wait, or get the hell out of my office. These are all the words I have for you at the moment." she began connecting several tubes to Yolandi and turned the machine connected to them on. Blood was sucked up, cycled and cleaned, then returned to Yolandi's body. There were bits of black gunk and glowing gunk in her blood and Moema sighed. "Yolandi... I am severely disappointed in you."

"It wasn't my fault, Doctor. I swear." Yolandi whimpers.

"You've been using ADAM for a long time, Yolandi... This black waste from the ADAM in your blood settles in your organs... In your brain. You knew this..." scolded Moema as she pulled the over-head light closer to Yolandi's face to check the work done to the woman's face.

"I knew... But it's just... Have you ever had it?" Yolandi tried, hopeful.

"I do not need substances foreign to the human body to feel better about my life, past present or future. I read, I study, I work on expanding my mind... Not my want for a superficial high." Answers Moema who tilts Yolandi's head up. Frank is now ready to help and stands well out of her way, just in case.

"Well, I didn't have the good life you did, Doctor..." whines Yolandi.

"I did not have a good life, you spoiled woman. It wasn't until I started helping my neighbors patch themselves up that I found my passion, my calling. Before that, I was lost and frightened and threatened. I was the product of rape. I've almost been raped many times... I've had to do some terrible things to stay alive and to keep my patients alive. I've faced adversity in many ways... But never once did I succumb. Never once was I weak willed enough to ruin what little I had. Coming to Rapture gave me a chance and now it's crumbling around us. Do you understand, Yolandi?"

Yolandi lets a few tears slide from her eyes and winces as Moema runs a thumb along a flesh seem. "I didn't want it... I swear."

"What were you doing after hours, when Jamison closed up?" Moema pressed.

"Please... I don't want to talk about this..." she begged.

"You will be honest with me, Yolandi... Your life hangs from a very delicate string right now." Moema states rather coldly, turning Yolandi's head to her left, partially to follow the seam and partially to let Yolandi see Sullivan and the others there.

Yolandi's eyes widened. "He... He... He asked me if maybe I'd like to make a little extra..." she glanced down in shame, "He knew what I used to be..." she shuts her eyes in both physical and emotional pain as Moema bends Yolandi's ear a bit to look behind it. "I said no at first... But he said that I reminded him of Aphrodite. That I reminded him of a Goddess he saw in his dreams..."

Moema frowned before motioning Frank bring a tray with pristine tools upon it closer. "What then?" asked the Doctor before glancing back at Sullivan to find him jotting this information down. When the tray was close enough, Moema snatched up some local anesthetic and lightly began dotting around the seam. It wouldn't be enough to hurt Yolandi or block the most excruciating pain... But it'd be enough for Moema to do a few things.

"I fell for it... For him. I stayed after and we fooled around a little before he began shaking... He said he needed more and asked me if I wanted any... I couldn't say 'no'... I just couldn't... So, he got some ADAM he had in his office-"

Moema stopped and straightened with a sigh. Of course. She was thinking Alcohol... She didn't suspect the ADAM because she had some in her office too! "- and he injected some into himself before offering me some too... I... I don't remember after that... Except for bits of pain before he gave me more..." Yolandi looked to Moema, "What did he do to me?"

Moema shook her head. "Don't worry about that right now, Yolandi. Just relax and let me help you." she pointed to the dialysis machine, "I'm cleaning your blood right now... But whatever damage that crap has already done to you is irreversible. This is what happens when you do too much of one thing. Especially a toxin." Moema sighed and looked to Sullivan, "Did you get all of that? Does it matter? Or are you going to let Steinman carry on because Ryan likes him?"

Sullivan sighs and puts his pen and paper away, "We'll hold him for a short while... Maybe get all that shit out of his system-"

"Great, you're going to do nothing... Because that's not how ADAM works." she shook her head and turned back to Yolandi, picking up her scalpel, "Go be useless elsewhere, Sullivan. Get out of my office."

"Doctor Suero..." begins Sullivan.

"No. Spare me your apathetic explanation of how your hands are tied and this is how things work. Just leave." she growls, making cuts around the bulge over Yolandi's eye.

"Ryan would like a word with you tomorrow..." he states, walking over to Moema's desk to set down an envelope. "If you don't show up on time, he'll send my boys and I to get you."

"Oh, how lovely. The dog will play fetch for his master." Moema mocks viciously. "Now that you've delivered your message, leave. You are not welcome here if you refuse to help the people. The victims of this crumbling ruin of a civilization."

Sullivan sighs but nods and ushers his men out.

In the silence afterwards, Yolandi, who is trying very hard not to move under Moema's scalpel glances up, "Can you fix me, Doctor? Please?"

Moema sighs, "I'm going to try." she glances to Frank who watches her carefully. After a moment, she continues with Yolandi.


	9. Chapter 9

All hell had broken loose. Atlas Moira and Patrick were still missing and Yolandi was gone now, too... Fontaine had told Moema to wear a gas mask often when walking around, so she decided to do just that... She'd also found a companionable mind in Anna Culpepper. Business had essentially died out as things got worse, so, Moema didn't need to work as a Cosmetic Surgeon right now. Instead, she would tend to the workers and spend some time with Anna.

"I can't believe Frank Fontaine has shown such interest in you..." Anna chuckled as she lit up a cigarette. "I mean, you hardly seem his type..." Moema scoffed, as if offended. "No, I mean you don't seem easy."

"I'm not." responds Moema. "Believe me when I say, I am just as surprised as you!" both women laugh lightly. "But, he introduced me to Atlas who expressed a concern for the health of his fellow workers. So, now I spend a lot of my time among the populace... You know, the ones working their humps off."

Anna nods. "It's getting more and more dangerous to do that kind of stuff... Do you take protection with you?"

"I'm fluent in a few weapons... Take a few with me. Yes." nods Moema.

"It wouldn't be dangerous if Ryan would pull his head out of his ass!" Moema choked on her wine while nodding at Anna. "Easy there." laughs Culpepper. "I mean, how can he claim that Rapture is this perfect place when he keeps ruining everything by being a... A-"

"Tyrant?" offered Moema, earning an enthusiastic nod from Anna. "I don't know, but he really doesn't care about the people who can't afford the big things..."

"Jesus, do I know!" Anna sighs out. Both women seem to sit back and shake their heads. "Rapture would be better in hands like ours... Not Fontaine's or Ryan's."

Moema sipped a bit, raising both brows. "If only people like those two had souls like ours..."

A sharp laugh came from Culpepper, "Then we'd be out of business!"

"No. We'd be out of complaints." Corrected Moema, earning a nod from the other woman.

Moema was, for lack of a better word, buzzed. She and Anna had drank a little more than they should have and decided to write down a plan of action for taking over Rapture. Granted, Moema couldn't recall much of what was written. She chuckled to herself as she approached her door and began to input the key code.

The doors slid open and, in her slight haze, Moema saw a red light flip on and watched a swivel chair turn towards her. The noise of whirring accompanied the noise and before Moema could shout, she was snatched and pulled to the side of the door. Bullets whizzed past and lodged themselves into the opposite wall. Finally, the turret whirred off and the door shut.

Being released allowed Moema to turn and look at Frank. "What just happened?"

He shook his head, "Ryan wants you dead…"

"What?!" she scowled, "He has the gall…"

Frank nods slowly. "I'm on that list, too… Though, he knows better than to do somethin' like that to me."

"That… That… Son of a bitch!" she growled. Being shot at by an unthinking machine was enough to sober her up. "Wait… If I'm on a hit list… So too must Anna be! My God! Anna!" She latched onto Frank's hand and rushed back to Anna Culpepper's home. A man was shambling away with something in his hands, away from the duo as they neared. Moema didn't wait around and went in. "Anna!?"

When no one responded, she rushed to the hall and to the back. She wasn't in bed, so Moema moved to the door to the bathroom, "Anna?"

Frank who had followed her looked around the bedroom before settling his stare on Moema.

"Anna, I'm coming in…" Moema states clearly before making the door open. She inhales sharply and looks away from the dead body of Anna Culpepper. "My God, Anna… I'm so sorry." As a Medical mind, she knew that there was nothing she could do for Anna.

Frank eyed the corpse before wrapping an arm around Moema and guiding her from the bathroom. "I'm sorry 'bout yer friend, Ema… But we need to go."

Moema nods but doesn't move, save for looking up at Frank, "I was just here, Frank. Not ten minutes ago…" she looked towards the now shut bathroom door. "I should have stayed…"

Sighing lightly, Frank set his hands to her shoulders, "They were probably waiting for you to leave, first. And what would you have done?" his right hand left her shoulder to make her look at him, "You probably would have been dead, too…"

Her dark eyes look at the honesty that is so rarely on Franks face and nods, "So, what, do we escape topside… Or… Go to war?"

A heavy sigh came from Frank as he straightened and moved to the nearest window looking into the depth of the water. "We go to war… Ryan's begun sealing the Bathyspheres…"

"That-" she halts herself and shakes her head. "So…"

Frank turns to look at her, "We need to keep safe. Between us, we'll rally the majority of the people Ryan hates and see if we can't tear him down." He snarled at the last words and Moema nodded.

"Where do we start?"

He gave a slightly surprised smirk before looking back at the water. "We start with the truth."


	10. Chapter 10

Moema sat in her make-shift office in Hestia – where she'd always done her Check-ups with the people before this turmoil. She'd been sitting there, covering her eyes when someone entered and walked right up to her desk. Looking up she was surprised to see Atlas and Frank… But something felt very off.

"Hey, Doc…" Said Frank and that was enough to caused Moema to become enraged. "You rat bastard!" she growled at Atlas. "This nonsense does not fool me!"

'Frank' looked to 'Atlas', confused and concerned, until 'Atlas' chuckled, "Nothin' gets past you, Ema."

She scoffed, "Choosing Atlas seems in poor tastes, Frank."

"It'll send Ryan through a loop or two!" Chuckles 'Atlas'. He stops when Moema scowls. "Ema… If we want to bring the war to Ryan, we need a front-man… An every-day man like Atlas was. As Frank, I didn't have the best rep…"

"Oh, I'm well aware." She nods.

Sighing, 'Atlas' sends 'Frank' away. Once he's gone, he moves around the desk to lean against the back wall, forcing Moema to turn in her swivel seat to face him. She crosses her legs and arms. "I'm sorry if what I've done seems insensitive to you, Ema… But I had to… Besides," he doesn't disguise a look at Moema's body, "This could work for both of us… In more than one way." Straightening, he ends up on his knees right in front of her. "I'm not Frank anymore, Ema…" his voice was beginning to lilt with an Irish Brogue. "I'm Atlas."

Moema got chills as Frank was able to sound just like Atlas! She doesn't move as he sets his hand on her knee to move it. Now that both her feet are on the floor, he slightly parts her legs and slides his hands upwards very slightly, earning a sharp intake of air from Moema.

"I'll need your help Doctor Suero…" he whispers, giving a boyish grin as Moema blushes darkly. His head leans down to place a gentle kiss to the inside of her left knee before doing the same to the right.

Her mind fought like a caged bird against the lustful snare as she nodded slowly. "… Okay." She whispers.

'Atlas' grinned and leaned up to steal a kiss, "I'll see you around, Doctor Suero." And he popped up to his feet and left.

Moema slowly blinked before realizing what had just happened… She picked up her pen cup and tossed it clear across the room in a fit before flopping back into her seat. With a groan, she covered her face and leaned onto her desk. She felt dirty.

A few Splicers had come into Hestia and began causing issues, drawing Moema from her work on a young boy who'd fallen and cut up his knee. She glanced out the window before rushing to gather her revolver and a shotgun. Heading down to the courtyard, she cocked her Shotgun, "You had best take your rabble and leave." She said darkly, drawing all attention towards her.

The Splicers, deformed and mad, turned towards her. "Oh, well look at Miss Tuffet…"

"I warned you once and that is all you get at this time." She growled before blowing off the face of the Splicer who spoke. She turned towards the second of five and blew off his face before any of them could move.

With that, the third lunged for Moema, who's shotgun only did two shots. She quickly struck the Splice with the butt of her gun, making it – she couldn't tell the gender of this one – stumble backwards. That gave her enough time to grip the barrel of the shotgun and swing as hard as she could at the Splicer. A sickening crack let Moema know that she'd broken the bastards jaw, while the spew of blood let her know that the Splicers teeth, unhinged, dug into the roof of their mouth.

The third Splicer fell to the ground and laid still as blood seeped out of their mouth. Dropping her shotgun, Moema pulled out her revolver and looked to the last two. She made no movements when she realized they held another young boy in their hands.

"Miss Tuffet kills the Spiders…" hissed the fourth Splicer as the fifth held the boy fast. "That's not how the tale goes."

"Miss Tuffet was a girl who knew little. I am not Miss Tuffet. I am a Doctor." Moema states viciously.

"No, you are Miss Tuffet…" Says the fourth.

The fifth nods, "We're here to frighten you away…"

"Who wants me gone?" pressed Moema.

"We do." Both state before a gunshot blasts through the fourth, leaving the fifth to turn to look towards 'Atlas' and his group. While the fifth was turned, Moema took her shot and sent a bullet straight through the fifth's ear.

"E'ry one alrigh'?" 'Atlas' calls, rushing to the boy to help him up and brush him off. The boy nods before rushing to his mother who hugs him tightly. Moema stares at 'Atlas' a moment before picking up her discarded shotgun and beginning back up to her office. 'Atlas' rushes after her. "Y'alrigh' Doctor?"

"I'm fine, 'Atlas'." She states rather apathetically. He goes quiet and follows her into her office. She finishes working on the boy with the scraped knee and 'Atlas' shuts the door behind them, then locks it. "What are you doing?"

"I want some privacy." He says, still speaking like Atlas. His steps became struts as he closed the blinds.

Moema felt a sort of excitement and disgust with herself. "Frank-"

"Y'gotta call me Atlas, Moema. That's who I am now." He states, walking over to pull her to stand. Once she is stood, he pulls her flush against himself and leans down, capturing her lips. It takes Moema a moment before she begins returning the kiss. Between them, it becomes fervent and needy. 'Atlas' lifts her up to sit her upon the desk, placing himself between her knees, hiking up her skirt. His hands dance around the bare flesh they can find – rough fingers and palms on soft untouched flesh.

A sigh escaped Moema as her eyes fluttered shut.

BANG! BANG! BANG! "Fontaine's dead!"

The two retracted from one another, panting and flushed. Moema stood on shaky legs and pushed her skirt down to unlock and open the door, "What?!"

The man looked at Moema and figured her to be angry. "I'm sorry… Ryan's Security shot him down at the Fisheries."

Moema's eyes glance around in thought as she felt a twinge of sadness. Though, she wasn't sure if it was because of the poor fool who wore Fontaine's face, or the idea that part of Frank died today… "I see. Thank you." And she shut the door. She moved to her dresser, since she stayed in her office, and pulled out a shawl to throw over her head. "I'm going."

'Atlas' scoffed in objection, "Are yuh sure that's wise?"

She gave him a serious look, "I owe 'Frank'… Now, don't I?" Without much else being said, she left. 'Atlas' growled, but stood and followed after her, snatching the hat away from one of the men who found it funny. "You're coming with me?"

"Just in case." He nodded.

The two were part of a small crowd as some of the Security laid out the dead. Sullivan, who looked quite unhinged, glanced out towards the crowd for an inexplicable reason and locked eyes with Moema, who glared at him. In his unhinged state, the odd glow from the lights and the red shawl covering her head scared him. He felt as though his crimes against the people was catching up with him. Surely Moema was a ghost! That turret he set up killed her… He then looked to the man beside her and saw Atlas. He'd seen that man's dead body! Never said a thing about it to anyone, but he knew Atlas and his wife and son were dead… But there they stood. All he needed now were Fontaine and Culpeper's ghosts to step forth.

His skin quivered in fear and he felt nauseous as he stumbled back. He bumped into some of his men who happened to be carrying Fontaine's body. They dropped it when he knocked into them, causing a reaction to happen in 'Fontaine's body, making his eyes snap open to stare listlessly at Sullivan. That was it. His mind snapped and he gave a scream before rushing off.

Moema and 'Atlas' shared a glance. "That was strange." 'Atlas' nodded to Moema.


	11. Chapter 11

Moema was seated, doing paperwork, which seemed completely unnecessary at the time, but she couldn't help herself. It was habitual now. A soft knock interrupted her train of thought. "Come in."

The door opened and in stepped Maiara. Moema let her eyes lose focus on the paperwork as the familiar scent of her mother wafted to her. She looked up and the two Suero women just stared at one another until Moema stood and approached to hug her slightly shorter mother tightly. "Mother." Sighed out the younger in Portuguese.

"Moema…" greeted Maiara. "It's been so difficult these months…"

"I know, Mother. I felt it too." Moema says before releasing her mother, "Please, come and sit." Maiara does as requested and sits in front of Moema's desk while her daughter sits behind it. "It's been so long since we spoke… I missed our conver-"

"What are you doing on this side?" Maiara asks bluntly. A frown covers Moema's face.

"What?"

"Why are you on the poor's side?" pressed the matriarch.

"Why on earth would I not be? Wealth does not make one right." She threw up one hand, motioning towards the door, "Wealth and power and control do not make Ryan right. They never have and never will."

Maiara nods slowly, "I want you to leave while you still can, Moema." She shuddered and leaned over slightly. "Get to the surface and leave Rapture behind."

Moema tilted her head, "Why? I can't just leave these people to thei-"

"YES! You can!" shouts Maiara, eyes burning with pain, fear, and nerve. "You must! Destruction and chaos live with us…" she groaned and used both arms to cradle her stomach… Or was she trying to make her arms immobile? "I don't want you mixed up in this, Moema… Please… Promise you'll leave?"

The younger woman's mouth opens and shuts a few times before she stands and moves closer, "Mother, you're obviously not well… Let me help you." When she goes to lean down to help her mother, the older woman swings at the younger before a loud noise accompanies her turning invisible. The door opens and shuts, letting Moema know that Maiara was gone… And a Splicer.

Moema got up and ran out the door to find a man being knocked down the stairs by something invisible. Before long, Moema is unsure where Maiara went and goes down to the winded man to help him up. "What was tha'?" comes 'Atlas's voice as he approaches. He helps Moema help the man up.

With a small shake of her head, Moema goes back upstairs to her office, knowing that he'll follow her. 'Atlas' follows and shuts the door and the blinds. "It was my mother. She's a Splicer, now…"

'Atlas' stares a moment before approaching, "What did she say?"

"She wants me to go topside. Wants me to escape this chaos." Moema huffs, shaking her head and leaning back in her seat. "As if I would be able to…"

'Atlas' looks down a bit before looking at her again, though she isn't looking at him. "Yuh gonna go afta her?"

"No." Moema shakes her head before finally looking at 'Atlas'. "She's gone now…"

He inhales a moment before leaning forwards to take up Moema's hand gently. "What do yuh need?"

Her head shakes, "Sanity? For this war to be over? Compassion, comfort, love?" her shoulders bobbed. His hand squeezed hers.

"I can only give you them last requests, Moema." For a moment, he just sits there, then he stands – still holding her hand – and moves around the desk to pull her to her feet. "If yuh want..?"

There is a long pause as Moema looks at 'Atlas' watching him. After an internal debate, she decides "To hell with it!" and leans up to plant a soft kiss to his lips. He's surprised but it doesn't take long for him to eagerly wrap his arms around her and turn a soft kiss into a passionate one.

Moema was now in the Medical Pavilion, gathering some supplies with Jamison, who had wandered into her Hestia office, bloodied and traumatized. Both were packing up a lot from Moema's office, when Jamison spoke, "I miss Yolandi…"

A small forced smile crossed her lips, "She was funny… And sweet."

Jamison nods, "Yeah. She was beautiful too…" Moema gave him a knowing look and he went to object but his voice failed him. So, he nodded, "Yes… I never had the courage to ask her somewhere…"

"How were any of us to know of what was coming, Jamison? Things happen and either you roll with it, or get rolled over by it." Moema offers, bagging some supplies. "Be sure to leave that damned ADAM out."

"I know." He nods, "… To both." The two of them continued and before long, both headed off. As they began down the hall, a loud explosion rocked the area, followed by raucous laughter. "What the hell?"

Before Moema could speak, a voice called out, "Hand over the ADAM!" It was Yolandi!

"Yolandi!" Jamison called out to her through the settling dust. It was impossible to tell anything until a damned hook lodged itself in the ground near Jamison's feet, "Shit!"

Moema stood and shoved the bag he'd been carrying into his arms before tugging onto his arm, "She's too far gone."

"But, Doctor! It's Yolandi! We can't just leave her here…" argued the young man.

"We can and we will, Jamison! There is nothing left of the Yolandi we knew." She then gave another hard tug and he followed her quick pace. The two ran and ran and almost didn't stop when they returned to Hestia.

"Where the 'ell have you two been?" came 'Atlas's voice as he approached. "Y'both look winded."

The two nodded before Moema stood straight, "We were at the Pavilion. I was running low on supplies and you were busy."

"A'ight… That explains the where… How about the why yeh both're winded?" states 'Atlas', aware of the watching of much of Hestia.

"One of the Splicers-"

"She's not a Splicer… She can't be!" Jamison moaned out. Before he could gripe some more, Moema slapped him.

"Get a grip, Jamison! Once they've done it, they don't come back! It eats them alive… Changes who they are! You think you have suffered? Get in line! Everyone is suffering! She's gone and there is nothing anyone can do about it!" She growled before stepping over Jamison and snatching up the second bag of supplies. It should have been too heavy for her smaller frame, but, as 'Atlas' was aware, Moema possessed a hidden physical strength.


	12. Chapter 12

It'd been another set of months and the population of Rapture was very low… All Bathyspheres were locked and each section was left to their own devices. Moema was fully aware that her romps with 'Atlas' had made her pregnant. She already knew what she'd name it… Patrick or Patricia. Or maybe Moira? Keep the 'm's going…

Despite that, she was acutely aware of 'Atlas' being continually on the radio. At one point, she walked in and glanced around before approaching the radio and eyeing the few monitors. "Who is that?" she asked, causing 'Atlas' to startle.

"Y'shouldn't be in here, Moema." He states without realizing that the radio is still on. He sighs, "'E's from th'surface."

Moema quirks a brow, "Is the lockdown finished?"

"… No." his answer made her quirk a brow, "'Aven't tried lately…"

"I see." She nods. "He looks a bit like… Ryan…" Her head tilted as she stared. "What are you putting him through? He looks to be in need of medical attention."

"I'm sure 'e'll be fine, Moema." 'Atlas' leaned away as she leaned down to get in his face. There was a critical look in her eye. "Wot?"

Standing straight, she shook her head, "Nothing." Then she turned and left the room.

She'd gone to Hephaestus and to Central Control. She stopped at the room where Ryan had discovered who this 'Jack' fellow really was and sighed. It was there that she waited and she didn't have to wait for very long. Jack came in and she pressed for a radio block on an item she'd taken from one of the desks of the workers. "Hello Jack."

He blinked at her curiously. "Who are you?"

"I am Doctor Moema Suero. I've lived here in Rapture a while now… I was here before the Civil War between the lower class and the upper class… I was here before Ryan lost his humanity… Before…" she stopped when she was about to mention Frank and Atlas. "Before everything became terrible." She sighed, uncrossed her arms and approached Jack, "I don't have all the clues pertaining to what is going on with you and 'Atlas' and Ryan… But I do know that you're about to do something that you cannot take back. Do you really want to kill Ryan? Is that what you boil down to, Jack? Murder?"

"Isn't he a terrible person? Didn't he cause all this?" Jack asked, throwing out his arms.

She groaned and touched her forehead, "He's just part of the problem… The past is finished and there is nothing we can do about it right now. We can use hindsight all we wish, but it won't change anything. I should have stepped up… Met up with Anna Culpepper earlier… Helped the destitute sooner… Done more… But 'Should Have's fix nothing." Her eyes settled on his, "You are so young… But look so old… Comparatively." She turned and pointed to an image of a baby with Tenenbaum and Suchong. "You had no childhood… You were raised here, in Rapture. If you can call it being raised." She looked towards him, "But you know that, don't you?"

Jack glanced down and nodded.

"Poor child." Approaching Jack, Moema took his face in her hands, making him look at her. "Atlas is not who he says he is, Ryan is not powerful, and you are not a murderer." She pecked his forehead and stepped back.

Whatever Frank had turned into was on top of Jack, attempting to kill him when a shot to the head knocked him down. Both men looked over to Moema who paced closer and closer. "That's enough, Frank."

"Ema…" Frank says slowly, "What the hell do you think yer doin'?!"

"I'm done with tyrants. I won't raise my child under such nonsense." Hisses the woman.

"Child? You mean-?"

"Yes, Frank. This is your child…" she nods, reaching down to help Jack stand.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asks Frank.

"Why would I tell you such a thing? You were pretending to be a man I admired to take control of the people I wished to help." She chuckles darkly, "I used you probably more than you used me."

Frank growls and stands to take a step closer, but Moema shoots him again. "Shit… Ema… You know I love you."

"With you, there is no one you love more than yourself. I know you, Frank. You were fascinated with me because I wasn't playing the cards you were giving. That isn't love." Her head shakes slightly.

"How would you know how I feel?" he roars, "Do you even try to understand?"

"What is there to understand about you, Frank? Is that even your real name? Frank Fontaine?" again, her head shakes, "No, I don't know. No, I don't want to understand. What I know is enough. You and Ryan… You were a perfect match for one another… Both egomaniacs with control issues…"

For a while, Frank just watches her, "What are yuh gonna without me?"

"Me? I'm going to live… Rapture? It's going to thrive…" she pats a pocket, "Went back to Anna's and found a plan she and I had drafted for making Rapture whole and good… I plan on implementing it… There are still people who haven't touched ADAM… Still people that can be saved."

He laughs, despite himself. "Oh? And who's gonna help you?"

"Whom-so-ever wishes to." She states seriously. It was then that the Little Sisters hop onto Frank and begin taking out the ADAM. Moema looks away and drops her aim as Frank is drained dry.

Jack, who'd stayed silent reaches over to set a hand on Moema's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She glances at him, "I'll be fine in due time, Jack…"

He nods before looking down at one of the Little Sisters and holding out his hand. The child is hesitant before setting her hand in his. Finally, he looks back at Moema. "You should come back to the Surface with me…"

Her head shakes as she chuckles, "No, Jack. I'm a colored woman. There is nothing for me up there… And someone has to clean up down here." She sets her revolver away, "You're welcome to stay or visit, though I'm unsure why you would…"

A faint smirk crosses his features, "I don't like the idea of being under so much water… It bothers me." That makes Moema laugh and nod. "But I might visit…"

"Take care, then." She nods once more before turning and heading off.


	13. Chapter 13

Years had passed and Moema had done as she said she would. Rapture was rebuilt and cleaned up. It was also recognized as its own Nation. This drew in many people, willing to work and experience the unique idea of living under the sea. There was some surface land that had been installed for the landing of planes and arrival of ships. As technology boomed, Rapture took part… In fact, many of the smart minds came to Rapture. It would always be a hotspot for culture and intelligence and art.

Moema built upon the core of what Rapture meant… Like a lack of censorship, and an abundance of freedoms. Though, there was some form of order. Laws and regulations… A minimum and even a maximum wage scale. She ensured that everything, everyone was covered. She also set up a sort of council. The last thing she wanted was absolute power.

She'd also found a friend in Brigid Tenenbaum. The two discussed much and Moema had Brigid become a sort of Aunt figure to her daughter, who she did name Moira, and her son, Patrick. Twins. They were a handful for Moema.

But this day, now that the twins were seven, Moema and Brigid had heard word from Jack that he wanted the five girls he took with him to know of their origin. They were landing now and when they rushed from the plane, the 14-16-year-old girls seemed confounded and Jack couldn't help but hug Moema and shake Brigid's hand. Moema had kept in touch with Jack periodically.

"Welcome back." Moema grins, patting Jacks face. He grinned back.

"How are the Mothers of Rapture?" he asked as the group made their way inside.

"Mothers of Rapture!" scoffs Brigid. "Why would you tell him that?" she asked Moema.

Chuckling, Moema shrugged, "Why wouldn't I? I find it fascinating."

"Because it is a ridiculous notion!" laughed Brigid. "We are fine, by the way. How about you?"

"As well as can be." Admits Jack. "So, I've been told of the changes and expansions… But I'm curious to see them for myself…"

"In good time, son." States Moema as the Bathysphere opens for them. The group steps on and Moema, Brigid, Patrick, and Moira sit on the right side while Jack and his girls take the other side.

Jack points to the new type of Bathysphere, "This is a curious change…" It was longer and had an actual driver.

"Well, when we became a known entity, we had a growth of population and the system that was in place before was just inefficient. So, I brought this concern to some people better suited to design and create what was needed. They made it longer and so that it could be driven… That way it's more efficient. This also created a few new jobs, which was a great bonus." Grinned the darker woman.

"She is so proud." Brigid teases lightly, earning a nudge from Moema.

"Why shouldn't she be? I dread to think of what rapture would have become without the guidance of you two." He states. "So, to Kashmir first or what?"

The two women chuckled, "We'll set you up with us, first."

"'Us'?" he asked, looking at Moema curiously. "You never said you both lived together."

"I didn't?" Moema asks with faux curiosity. "Must have slipped my mind!"

He gives a suspicious look to the two women who share a knowing smile. "Why does it feel like there is more to this?"

Both women shrugged lightly before the driver cleared his throat, "I thought it was all over the papers everywhere?" At the curious look from Jack, the driver continued, "These two are married."

Jack went wide eyed as he looked at the grinning women. "Really?"

"We respect one another and we understand one another… Over the years, it became…" Moema looked to Brigid who nodded, "More. We're happy. It's nice to have someone who I can talk to and not become frustrated with or feel that I'm being told half-truths or lies."

"Like Fontaine and Atlas." Nods Jack. "I see, now. Good for you both. I'm very happy for you."

The couple nodded and thanked Jack. "You should have read some of the articles that were sent to us from other countries." Brigid sighs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Some people are so closed minded… It is sad, really."

Moema nodded. "We've even received some threats."

The three, Jack, Brigid, and Moema, chuckled and scoffed. That left the quiet children to share shrugs.

Brigid, Moema, and Jack were comparing their tales of Rapture and piecing the history together from memories. It was most enlightening until one of the girls, one of the former Little Sisters, came up to Brigid, "I apologize for intruding, but I think I remember you, ma'am."

"Oh, you think so?" Brigid asks, leaning forwards.

"Yes… You were there…" the young girl frowned as the memory seemed foggy and almost unobtainable. "You were… Behind a window…" she glanced to Jack who nodded, encouraging her to continue. "There were bunk beds… And there was this man…" her head shook. "That's all I can remember."

"That is probably for the best." Brigid nods. "So, what do you plan on doing with your future?"

The girl smiled faintly, "I want to be a Doctor."

"Ooh." Brigid teases, looking to Moema who chuckles.

"I want to help people." She continues.

"How would you like to help people?" asks Moema.

"I don't know… I guess heal them… Cure them of things…"

"Ah. I see. Do you have any books to determine if you can even understand what would be required of you?" continues Moema.

"Uhm, no… I wasn't sure where to start."

"Perhaps when the time comes, you'll come back to Rapture and I'll mentor you? If you want, that is..? Rapture isn't for everyone… Your father can attest to this." Moema motions to Jack who shakes his head with a scoff.

"Uhm, yeah, sure. I think it's really neat in Rapture. It's different. I like it." She nods. "Ah, I've been curious… Daddy says you two are like family to him… Sort of like mothers…" the two women shared a look, "Would that make you two our grandmothers?"

Moema tilted her head as Brigid shrugged lightly. "I suppose." Both say together. The girl smiled widely before turning to her sisters and telling them.

Looking towards Jack, Moema chuckles, "What a curious turn of the conversation."

Jack shook his head a shrugged, "I was making observations on the way over here… I guess Sarah over-heard."

"Clever girl." Responds Brigid before the phone rings. "I suppose I shall get that." She stands from the table and answers the phone.

"It must be difficult raising five girls on your own, Jack." Moema begin, earning a partial shrug from the man. "If you ever need time, you send those girls here. Brigid and I will keep an eye on them. Without question."

Jack smiled, "I might just have to. It's really difficult… I find that they're asking questions I don't have the know-how to answer!"

"Oh, I think I understand. Next time, have them call with their questions." She chuckles lightly at the next thought, "I mean, between Brigid and I, I'm sure we've more than enough experience!"

"Moe. They need you down at the Pavilion." Brigid says, sitting back down. "Jamison got injured and can't continue the operation."

Moema sighs, "Sometimes, I wonder why I let him become a Doctor…" she then stands, "Alright. I guess I am needed." Leaning down, she pecks Brigid, "I will be back soon."

"You want me to follow the itinerary?" Brigid asks.

"Might as well." Shrugs Moema. "I know it well enough to know approximately where you all will be." She pecks her son and daughter, "Behave you two."

"Alright. Be safe." Brigid responds.

"You know I always am." Moema states, smiling, and putting on her shoes. Once done with that, she said goodbye once more to everyone before finally leaving.

Moema greeted some citizens and tourists before reaching Brigid, Jack, and the children. "Enjoying the brand new Museum Biosphere?"

Jack chuckles, "It is very informative… A touch of world history, and a bit of Raptures…"

"We have not gone to the section of Raptures Dark Moments…" responds Brigid, reaching out to squeeze Moema's hand in greeting before releasing.

"Ah, I see. Then let me know when everyone is rea-"

"Jesus will smite you for your blatant Sins and tainting of young minds!" A woman with long dark hair shouts, approaching the group. "You'll make these innocents go to Hell with you!"

Moema looked at the woman, "Are you aware of exactly whom you are spewing your Religious intolerance at, ma'am?"

"Are you even aware that such verbal assaults are against the law?" Brigid chimes in.

"God and Jesus will protect me!" hisses the woman as a young man rushes up to latch onto her, "Let me go, Jimmy!"

"You gotta shut yer mouth, now, Ruth…" Jimmy says, tugging on Ruth. Despite him seeming stronger than the petite woman, she tugged her person free of his grasp.

"I ain't gotta do a damned thing!" she silences when Moema sets one hand upon her shoulder and grips tightly. "OW!"

"Security!" Moema shouts out, drawing the attention of the curious Museum Security over.

"No, please, Doctor Suero? She didn't mean nuthin' by it! She's just a little stupid, that's all…" Jimmy begs.

With Security very close, Moema eyes Ruth, who is now pale at the mention of Moema's name. "Do you realize now, Ruth, whom you have just attacked?"

"All I did was say the truth…" she squeaks out.

"Here in Rapture, you are certainly free to believe what you will and practice your faith… In private. In public settings and other peoples' private homes, any unwelcome Religious Propaganda and the Incontinent spewing of hatred is a crime. Your Religion is important, yes… But only to you and those who believe as you do. Under no circumstance are you or anyone else to publically speak about your Religion without the proper permit and at the proper venue. Even then, there are stipulations as to what you may say in public." The guards were now just behind Ruth. "Now, these laws are in place to ensure peace and happiness for every citizen and visitor. You, Ruth, are creating a vile disrespecting environment in a place of knowledge and learning. You, Ruth, are attempting to assault my wife and I, as well as our children and grandchildren." She sighs and nods to the two Security men, letting them latch onto Ruth. "Now, I will not stand for such a transgression and blatant disrespect to me, mine, and my home. Given that this is most likely your first time here, I will inquire for leniency from the Council."

"Wait! I'm goin' to jail?" Ruth cries out, "Just for believin' in God?"

"No." hisses Moema, becoming angry. "You are going to jail because you broke the law. Get this cretin out of my sight before I regret offering my word on leniency."

The guards nod and as Ruth goes to cause more of a disturbance, Jimmy slaps a hand over her mouth, "Shut up, Cousin." He then turned and nodded to Moema, "Thank you, Doctor Suero."

Moema nods once as the group watches Ruth get carted away. "Nothing makes my skin crawl as much as ignorance." A small huff escapes her as Brigid rubs at her back.

"Chances are, that was how she was raised, Moe." Brigid sooths softly.

A small nod comes from Moema, "I suppose. I just hope she learns her lesson…" Turning to the group, she clapped her hands, mentally shoving the issue away, "So! Raptures Dark Moments…"

Jack looks to his girls before looking back at Moema and nodding. "Let's go."

The group moves to the section which is separated from everything else and wander through, looking at the panels and pictures and tools and propaganda. They finally come across Gatherer's Garden machine and a few things from the Little Sister and Big Daddy sets. The five girls seem to stare a little longer than they should at this section and the adults share a few looks.

"This was us… Wasn't it?" asks Sarah. She looks to Jack who looks to Brigid and Moema. Following his gaze, Sarah looks at the two women.

"It was." Nods Brigid. "It was a… Dark time for all of us… We were all fairly different back then." She looks downwards, "I was a different person…"

"So… Then who are our biological parents? Where are they?" presses the girl.

"Without your original DNA and without the proper documentation of where you came from, we have no way of telling." Moema says as Brigid steps away for a moment. "The most likely scenario is that your parents were killed in the Civil War. That, or they've gone mad from Splicing." That made her chuckle dryly at a sudden realization. "You were either sent to or forcibly taken to Fontaine's Little sister Orphanage. Seems almost poetic that you are quite literally now, Orphans… Or, were." Her head shakes, "Damn you Frank." She murmurs.

Sarah approaches Moema before hugging the woman tightly. "So, you knew Frank Fontaine?"

"I did. I knew him as Frank, I knew Atlas before he disappeared, I knew Frank when he took up Atlas' identity." Moema seems to let her mind wander as her eyes dart to and fro. "It was a… difficult time."

"If you don't mind my asking, Grandma, why was it difficult?" presses Sarah.

"Well… I'd become a Doctor and Frank began months of pestering me. After a time, he introduced me to Atlas. Atlas wanted Medical check-ups for him and the others who couldn't afford the Pavilion at the time… I was instantly attracted to Atlas. He was an honest man… But he had a wife and son. Moira and Patrick… I suppose, if I am to believe Frank's admissions of love for me, that he became jealous of my infatuation for Atlas. Who knows? Anyways. I tried to keep to myself and keep Frank at a Distance. I also respected the loving family Atlas had. Moira was an absolute peach of a woman and Patrick was the first baby I enjoyed being around." She wraps her arm around Sarah's shoulders, "Obviously, I loved Moira and Patrick to such an extent that I would name my children after them!"

The group chuckles and Brigid returns, clearly having shed some tears.

"Work seemed to dwindle as Rapture made a hasty descent into madness and chaos… I told Frank I needed time away from him and his… Self-entitlement. Around then is when Atlas and his family disappeared. There was nothing I could do… Either Frank had them killed, or Ryan… Though, there is no reason for Ryan to have done so. He may have been a tyrannical selfish bastard, but he never really did anything without reason… That's when I met with Anna Culpepper. A wonderful woman. We had a fledgling friendship before she was killed and my life was almost taken from me at the same time… Andrew Ryan had put his Head of Security to it. Sent Sullivan to kill us both. He set up a turret in my apartment and I would have been dead if Frank had not snatched me out of the way so quickly. I suppose his hatred for Ryan was a gift in disguise that night… That was when I realized that Anna might be in danger, so I rushed back to her place only to find Sullivan stumbling away and Anna dead in her tub…"

A long pause from Moema as her eyes watered caused Brigid to place a soft kiss to Moema's cheek. "It's alright love." Moema's eyes focused on Brigid before she nodded. "Go on."

"Well, I couldn't very well stay in my own home anymore… I went to Hestia and lived out of my make-shift office. I tended to the poor. When the majority of men were gone and those left were unaccustomed to gun use, I was left to defend Hestia and her residents. It happened often enough, I suppose. After a time, Frank and Atlas walk in and I can feel that something isn't quite right… Then Frank calls me 'Doc' and I knew it wasn't him. I knew that the Atlas in front of me was Frank and the Frank was some poor sap who most likely didn't fully know what he'd gotten into. I was so livid… I felt that the disappearance of Atlas and his family was somehow my fault and to have Fontaine wearing his face… It was heart breaking. He tried seducing me as Atlas and I am ashamed to say that it worked. Before long, I realized that I was pregnant… That was when Jack came. I knew that there was something to Jack… I'd worked on enough faces and studied them enough to recognize that he resembled Ryan ever-so-slightly. I left Hestia and made my way to the core to reach just before Ryan's hide-out. Jack came in and we had a small conversation. I didn't see him again until I had to shoot a Spliced Frank off of him. Before that was when I finally met Brigid."

The two women share a small smile and peck. "We spoke about the terrible things that had happened and decided that if we could, we'd fix it. I went off, found the plans Anna Culpepper and I came up with the night she died, and then returned in time to shoot Frank. I revealed that I was pregnant and done with Frank's nonsense. After that, you girls popped out and helped defeat Frank by draining the abundance of ADAM from his system. Then Jack took you top-side and Brigid and I gathered who was left and cleaned the city…"

"What happened to the Frank imposter?" asked one of the girls.

"He was shot multiple time by Sullivan and his men. The real Frank and I went to see… Felt like I owed it to the poor man, and when Sullivan saw both of us, his sanity broke. I suppose he suspected both of us to be dead… He ended up knocking the faux Frank from the arms of his men, making the body fall and the eyes to snap open… I haven't seen Sullivan since. He ran screaming." Her left shoulder shrugged.

"Did you come to Rapture with someone?" asked another.

"Yes. I came with my mother." Nodded Moema.

"What happened to her?" asks Sarah.

"I suppose she got mixed up with Fontaine for some reason and to protect me, she said that we were no longer related… That we did not know one another. That was just after I became a Doctor. I didn't see her again until she found me in Hestia and told me to go Top-side to escape. Turns out, she'd spliced and wanted me to leave before she lost herself to the ADAM. I found her dead during the CURe."

"That had to be the worst part of Clean Up and Rebuild…" Brigid begins, "Finding the dead…" a nod comes from Moema.

"How come dad didn't turn out like the other Splicers?" questions Sarah, still leaning on Moema.

"Suchong and I ensured that Jack would have a clear advantage… Did you know he is roughly a few years younger than you girls and a couple older than the twins?" chuckles Brigid.


	14. Chapter 14

Sarah stepped off the plane with her luggage and sighed. She'd just graduated and now… It was time to learn a thing or two with Grandma Moe. She called a Bathysphere and boarded with a few others. Taking a seat in the back, near the driver, she gave her new address… She'd be staying with her Grandmothers for now. Not to mention her overly quiet younger aunt and uncle.

"Oh-ho-ho… Watch out, we got a star!" the driver says, offering a boyish grin to Sarah. "I take it y'know someone?"

Sarah can't help but find his roguish charm, well, charming. "Yes. I happen to be the granddaughter of Brigid Tenenbaum and Moema Suero."

"No, shit!" he laughs. "The Mothuhs uh Raptcha! That makes yer old man the one an' only Jack Ryan and you one uh the old Little Sistas."

Sarah glances away as she nods, "Yes. I suppose so."

"Aw, man. I'm sorry… I don't mean nuthin' by it… Don't mean to pry er nuthin'." He apologizes, earning a slight smile. "Tell yuh what… I'll make it up to you by showin' you the best places to let loose!" he plucks at his jacket, earning a small titter of a laugh from Sarah. "Whaddya say?"

She tisks and glances around momentarily. "I don't know… Maybe. I have a lot planned ahead… We'll see…"

He opens his hands in a sort of placated shrug, "It ain't a 'No'. Take what you can get, am I right or am I right?" she nods and the two go quiet for the last few minutes of the transport. "Alright. First stop for the upcomin' stah!"

She flicks her hand at him before gathering her things and heading off.

"Ey!" he calls after her, causing her to stop and look back at the door. "What's yer name?"

She can't help the laugh, "Sarah. And will you leave a lady without your name after asking so suavely for hers?"

He scoffs before standing, "I…" he makes a show of placing his fingertips to his chest, "Mah fair Lady… Am Kyle." And he does a very low bow.

Sarah laughs again, "You're a laugh and half, I'll give you that."

"I aim tuh please!" he stands back up before retaking his seat. When the door finally shuts, he exhales, "Ain't she a dime?"

Sarah quickly goes up to her new home, thoroughly excited. She rings the bell and the door almost instantly slides open. Before Sarah can even register what's happening, she's pulled into a grand hug from both of her Grandmothers.

They ask about the trip and she says that it was fine. She used the time to read up on a few things.

They ask for anything new that has happened? She tells them about Kyle and his antics.

They how everyone else is doing? She tells them everything well into the night.

It would definitely be an interesting stay in the wealthiest, most cultured, most safe Nation… In fact, Sarah felt right at home… Especially when later on, she bumped into a solemn man who seemed twice her age and rugged, on her way to see Kyle.

"Sorry, sir. I should have been paying attention…" he smelled like… Whales. It was a familiar scent that Sarah couldn't place…

"Oh-ho! If it ain't the Princess 'erself! Bumpin' into one uh th'old Knights'o'th'Round Table of Raptchuh!" Kyle's voice penetrates the silence. He approaches and swings an arm around Sarah's shoulders.

"You mean…" she looked briefly at Kyle then to the man, "You were one of the Big Daddy's?"

For a long while, the older man stares. A perpetual frown on his face. Finally, he nods with a slight growl.

"Ah, there were about five of these big guys left… Th'otha four were much older an' I guess they couldn't handle real life with people anymore… So, the Council keeps them far away from all the Society an th'like. This one's the only one who ev'n remotely recuvuhed."

The former Big Daddy and Little Sister stared at one another for a long while before Kyle continued to babble on and on while guiding Sarah away. Though, she'd constantly glance back at the man, she couldn't bring herself to return to him… Yet.

* * *

_To those of you who read that single note far in the beginning, congratulations. I admire your tenacity. It takes profound patience to wade through the rambling of an author. So, how did you enjoy my little tale? How did Moema Suero fit for you? Was this story as preachy as I had warned about? Were there countless errors you noticed? Ooh, I hope not! I dislike errors... How about the characterization I spun upon the Canon characters? Were they Out of Character? What did you like best? What did you dislike most? Am I inquiring too much about your reading, dearest Reader? I apologize. You are probably reading this section to find out just what I had alluded to in the beginning! Ah, no worries. _

_What I had mentioned, in the beginning... When I write, I write about an OC... A character of my own! And, more often than not, I spend the whole story telling you, convincing you of a romance between a character I myself find enjoyable in a more carnal sense, and my Original Character. This one... This tale... It wasn't like that. In Bioshock, I enjoy Atlas. And, during a more recent play-through, I decided to tackle writing a story. This is what came of it._

_My mind pondered; What if Atlas were an actual man in Rapture? When I researched via the wiki page for Bioshock, I discovered that there was a book, telling that Frank Fontaine often took alias' and that his name wasn't Fontaine at all. That Fontaine was a real man who Frank killed and stole the identity of. Curious how things work out, hm? I also discovered that there was a sequel to Bioshock. I read through the plot synopsis of it and decided that I was disappointed but intrigued. Because it also has a way of working into that as well. You see, the sequel takes place roughly 7 to 8 years after Bioshock 1. That is where the previous chapter is. But, with Moema being the spearhead, things aren't as terrible as they were during Bioshock 2. Obviously. So, I suppose, should I ever get my hands on Bioshock 2 - and have the inspiration to - I'll know the happenings better and be able to continue. Otherwise... _

_Enjoy this scrumptious(If I do say so myself!) little tease._

_Thank you for reading!_

_~Scitah_


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